Black Wolf Reborn
by DannyBlack70
Summary: When Torrhen Stark sacrificed himself for the Three Eyed Raven he expected to die. The Old Gods however had a different plan for him and sent his mind back in time to his 11-year-old body. Can Torrhen change the future and save House Stark armed only with the knowledge of what is coming? And what else do the Old Gods have planned? Breakaway/Reboot of Black Wolf Rises Chapter 70
1. Rebirth

**Here we go with the first chapter of my Black Wolf reboot, Black Wolf Reborn! If you haven't read Black Wolf Rises to the end, then you may be a bit confused to start with and I'd recommend reading at the very least Chapter 70 of that story before you start.**

**I hadn't planned on releasing this so soon, but it's all I've thought about for a couple of weeks and so I had to get at least the first chapter out now. I think I'll update it alongside my other stories, but it honestly depends on what I'm in the mood for.**

**This story is fully planned out. Things may change as I actually write the story rather than the overview, but as it stands it is 65 chapters long, with plenty of changes to canon which is the whole reason I'm writing another Torrhen Stark story!**

**I hope you all enjoy this first chapter. I own nothing but my own Torrhen Stark. Everything else belongs to HBO or George R R Martin.**

* * *

His head was ringing, and his mouth tasted of dirt. Coughing, he tried to get himself back up onto his feet, but his limbs weren't working properly, and he went crashing back onto the ground.

"Cregan! Cregan are you ok?" A familiar voice asked.

'_Cregan? That's not my name…_' He thought. Worry filled him as he didn't understand what had happened. '_Last thing I remember was dying. I died. I died?_'

He began to breathe heavily, hyperventilating. Rough hands grabbed his middle and shifted him over so he was on his back, and Torrhen Stark, the King in the North, stared up at the familiar face of long dead Ser Rodrik Cassel, his famed white sideburns long enough to tie underneath his neck.

"Get up lad." The knight told him, and Torrhen sat up, his head still pounding.

"Someone called me Cregan?" He asked.

"Someone is too invested in their game." Ser Rodrik said judgingly, looking over at a boy no older than 14. Torrhen followed his gaze, and audibly gasped at the sight of his long dead older brother looking healthy and young again, and Robb Stark was looking down at him concerned.

"He was Cregan Stark, I was Daeron the Young." Robb said bashfully, and Torrhen felt a tear run down his cheek at seeing his elder brother once more.

"Am I dead?" He whispered, but Rodrik heard him.

"You had a wooden sword rapped around your head Torrhen, not a steel mace." Rodrik shook his head. "No lad, you're very much alive, and you'll be fine."

Torrhen felt his small iron shield on his left arm and quickly unstrapped it, letting it fall to the muddy ground of the courtyard. He began to take in his surroundings then, as men and women moved around getting on with their days. Winterfell itself looked different than Torrhen remembered, older. There were no wooden barricades detailing the courtyards, the walls were still intact, and he couldn't hear the roaring of the dragons overhead.

"The White Walkers…" Torrhen said, confused. "What happened?"

A laugh came from Robb. "I didn't hit you that hard did I?" He asked. "I hit him so hard he's believing in Old Nan's tales." He chuckled off to one side, where Torrhen saw a grinning Theon Greyjoy. The Stark growled and began to leap up to his feet to pummel the Ironborn, but Ser Rodrik held him down.

"You're concussed." He said flatly. "Come, I'm taking you to the Maester's Tower. Robb, spar with Theon. Wooden swords only!" He told Robb.

Torrhen was hoisted up to his feet and felt himself being marched away. He saw Mikken at his forge, and Farlen the Kennel master and his daughter, Palla, walking the hounds. All the people that had worked at Winterfell from before his Father was beheaded were here, and Torrhen laughed aloud. "I don't want to wake up." He told himself. Ser Rodrik just ignored him, and Torrhen, almost deliriously, kept talking to himself. "I do hope Wolkan survived." He said.

"Who's Wolkan?" Rodrik asked, as they entered the tower and began to climb some stairs.

"The Maester." Torrhen shrugged as if it was obvious.

"By the Gods boy how hard were you hit?" Rodrik asked exasperatedly.

Torrhen chuckled. "It is nice to see you Ser Rodrik. Ser Barristan was a fine teacher, but I could have done with your wisdom while in Meereen."

Rodrik actually began to look concerned at that moment, but they had arrived at the Maester's chambers so he just knocked on the door urgently. "I'm coming!" A voice shouted from inside, and Maester Luwin opened it.

"Oh." Torrhen answered sadly. "Then I must be dead."

"My Lord?" The Maester asked.

Rodrik sighed. "He's talking nonsense, Maester. I think he's concussed. Took a blow to the head in training and is talking about being in Meereen, and White Walker's. Thought you were named Wolkan."

"Wolkan is the new Maester, Ser. He brought my son into the world." Torrhen replied, before his face fell in sadness. "I hope he survived the attack…"

Rodrik and Luwin shared a concerned look. "I'll give him some sweetsleep." Luwin nodded. "Go and tell Lord Stark that he is here and explain what has happened."

Rodrik nodded, and Torrhen was sad to see his old mentor go. Maester Luwin began preparing the sleeping draught, quickly finishing it and placing it beside the bed alongside a cup of water. "You'll want to take this, Torrhen." Luwin told him kindly. "But drink this first. You need fluids and bed rest."

Torrhen shook his head softly. "I need to find Dany and Jon, and I need to make sure the baby is safe. Nothing can happen to him, he has to survive."

"Who?" Luwin asked kindly, sitting beside Torrhen as he took a sip of the water.

"Cregan." Torrhen answered. "My boy, the Prince of the North."

"Prince?" Luwin asked.

Torrhen chuckled. "Yes, Prince." He replied, before he scowled. "When Robb became King and was murdered cowardly by Roose Bolton, I became King in the North. My son is a Prince. You should know this, Maester, you didn't die until after we claimed independence."

Those words worried Luwin more than most, but he couldn't let them affect him. "Come, My Lord. Drink this." He held the sweetsleep up to Torrhen's lips, tipping the thick liquid into his mouth. Torrhen swallowed it all, and Luwin helped him settle down onto the bed. "You'll feel better in the morning."

Torrhen's eyes began to close, and once again his mind drifted off into nothingness.

* * *

"AAARGH!" Torrhen awoke with a scream, his hands rushing to his stomach where the ice-cold blade had pierced him. Panting and sweating, he sat up in his bed gasping for breath. As his vision came back to him, he saw he was in his old room in Winterfell, the candles flickering softly against the moonlit chamber. He turned to the window and saw the shadowy features of a young girl stood against the wall away from him.

"It's ok." His twin sister's voice came to his ears soothingly. "You're alright, Tor."

"Sansa." Torrhen whispered. "Thank the gods you're alive."

Sansa stepped forwards, concern on her face. "Alive? Of course I'm alive you fool."

Torrhen smiled weakly. "Then my sacrifice wasn't in vain. What about Cregan? Is he alright?"

"What are you on about?" Sansa asked. "Who's Cregan?"

"My son…" Torrhen said slowly.

Sansa laughed aloud. "Robb really did hit you hard." She giggled.

"What?" Torrhen was confused. "No, Robb died at the Twins."

Her facial features morphed into a scolding look. "Don't even jape about that." Sansa said sharply. "That's not funny."

Torrhen pushed himself backwards so that his back was leaning against the headboard. He had been dressed in an oversized undershirt that fell loosely over his body, and for the first time Torrhen noticed that he was smaller than he remembered. "The afterlife is cruel." He remarked quietly.

"Tor you're scaring me." Sansa said stepping closer and grabbing Torrhen's hand. He looked at her properly, her youthful features bearing none of the internal scars that she had felt after Joffrey and Ramsay, and she looked younger than he remembered.

"What is this?" He asked. The door opened then as Maester Luwin walked in with a couple of vials.

"How are you feeling?" Luwin asked.

"My head's sore, but everything is wrong…" Torrhen trailed off. "This is wrong…"

"He said that Robb was dead, and that he sacrificed himself." Sansa said shakily. "He mentioned a son…"

Luwin smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "My Lord, you are 11 years old, you're a bit young to be siring children."

"I'm… No, I'm 20." Torrhen corrected him, but he wasn't so sure as he looked down at himself and saw a younger body, his bare chest hairless and thinner than he was used to.

"I think some more sweetsleep until you're recovered." Luwin said softly. "Your concussion is causing you delusions, Torrhen. It will all become clearer soon."

Torrhen began shaking his head, but Sansa squeezed his hand. "Don't worry, Tor. I'll stay with you." She said soothingly. "I'll be the knight this time, and you can be the maiden I must protect." Torrhen was about to ridicule that, but Luwin forced the contents of the vial into his mouth once more and Torrhen felt himself dropping off to sleep again.

* * *

It took a couple of days for Torrhen to realise that perhaps this wasn't the afterlife. The afterlife was supposed to be a happy place where everyone was glad to see him. Where his dead friends and family welcomed him along with his ancestors with open arms and feasted to tales of heroics, but this was different. Nobody knew anything about what had happened with the War of the 5 King's, nor with the Long Night. Everybody treated him exactly as they had done when he was just 11 years old, and not as the King he had once been.

The feeling of something being strange was compounded as he was having breakfast with his entire family. Keeping himself to himself, he just watched his siblings. Rickon was a lot smaller than he ever remembered, sitting in Catelyn's lap as she helped him eat. Ned was regaling Bran with a story about him and Robert Baratheon before the Tourney of Harrenhal had happened, and of course, Sansa and Arya were bickering.

"You're so stupid! Nobody cares if one bit of your hair is out of place!" Arya was exclaiming, messing Sansa's locks up with a ruffle.

"Arya stop it I've just had it done!" Sansa cried. "Mother!"

"Arya… leave Sansa alone." Cat said, distracted as Rickon was trying to escape. "No, Rickon. You stay and eat your beets." Rickon just pulled a face and slapped out at the table, causing the plate to tip the contents up over him. Robb and Jon burst into laughter at that as Rickon then began crushing the beets into his clothing. "Rickon! No!" Cat cried out, Sansa and Arya's play fighting forgotten.

"I'll take him, Mother." Sansa said unhappily, rising and straightening her skirts. "I need to redo my hair anyway."

"I'll shear it off next time." Arya grumbled as Sansa walked away holding the toddler Stark.

Ned shook his head, having heard. "You will not." He said sternly. "Your sister may be politer than you are, and she behaves like a proper Lady of the South, but I can still hear the shrieks from the last time her hair was cut without her agreement." He shuddered dramatically.

All eyes moved to Torrhen as the children of the Stark family began to laugh at the reminder of Torrhen's actions. "She wore a bonnet for weeks afterwards." Robb grinned. "How hard did she hit you again, Tor?"

"Not hard enough." Cat told them with a stern voice, yet her eyes flickered with amusement. Torrhen just kept looking at his plate, unspeaking. He drowned out the rest of the conversation, not sure on what was going on, until suddenly the meal was over and Robb and Jon had left to go to their sword lesson.

"Aren't you going too, Torrhen?" Ned asked kindly. Torrhen looked up at him in surprise. He noticed that his Mother was gone too.

"Urm…" He stammered out, now knowing what he was going to say.

Ned smiled softly. "The answer is yes. Go on, if you don't train you won't get as good as Cregan Stark did to make Ser Aemon the Dragonknight call him the best swordsman he had ever fought."

"Can you tell us the story?!" Bran asked excitedly.

"Another time, Bran." Ned patted his son on the head. "You have your lessons too."

"Oh…" Bran moaned, but he got up and skulked off towards the Maester's tower, leaving just Torrhen and Ned at the table.

Ned moved so he was sat next to Torrhen. "Are you feeling ok? I can have Luwin excuse you for another day if you're not feeling well."

Torrhen shook his head, still overwhelmed. "No, I'm… I'm fine Father."

Ned patted Torrhen on the shoulder. "Then off you go, Ser Rodrik will be expecting you."

Torrhen nodded and left the table, leaving Ned staring at his sons back, his mind filling with concern.

* * *

Ned's worry caused him to head over to the balcony that allowed him the best view over the training yard, and he looked down as Ser Rodrik was drilling Jon and Robb. He was impressed with them both, but especially his son as Robb pulled off a good feint and whacked Jon across the back with his wooden sword, sending Jon sprawling in the dirt.

"Match!" Ser Rodrik called. "Well done Robb, although you left yourself open on your left once again, a better swordsman would exploit that. Jon, try not to get led into where your opponent wants you to go."

"Yes, Ser Rodrik." The boys both said.

"Theon." Ser Rodrik called. "Test Torrhen on his backhanded swings."

Ned watched on as Torrhen and Theon Greyjoy moved into the centre of the courtyard this time, Theon looking as smug as he usually did as he held his wooden sword upright in a defensive stance. "Alright then, Stark. What have you got?"

Torrhen didn't wait, but he rushed right in and quickly disarmed an unsuspecting Theon, before smacking the Greyjoy around the face viciously with his wooden sword. "I said backhand only!" Rodrik roared.

Torrhen grimaced and flicked his wrist so his sword swung in a circle as he waited for Theon to get back into position. "Gods, Stark." The Greyjoy complained, rubbing his cheek. "Did Old Nan not give you your sweets this morning?" He grinned.

"He's angry." Cat's voice came from behind him, and Ned turned and smiled at his wife, before his face set once more.

"Aye, he's been off ever since he sparred with Robb days ago, but I've never seen him like this." Ned admitted. "He's better, too. That disarm, I've never seen him move so quickly. He's like…"

"Like what?" Cat asked.

"Like a man who's seen war." Ned told her ominously as Torrhen moved quickly once again, sticking to the backhand blows. His power again disarmed Theon, and the next blow sent the Ironborn heir reeling, but Torrhen didn't stop there, hitting Theon repeatedly, screaming as he did. In the end it took all three of Rodrik, Robb and Jon to pull Torrhen off of Theon.

"That's enough!" Rodrik roared, ripping the wooden sword from Torrhen's hands. "I don't know what's gotten into you today, but you are done. Get out of my sight!"

Torrhen glared at the elder man, before storming off in the direction of the Godswood. Ned turned to Cat, concerned. "What in the name of the Seven was that?" She whispered.

"Trouble." Ned said grimly. "I'll go and talk to him." He kissed his wife on the cheek and began to make his way down to follow his second eldest son.

* * *

He didn't understand what was happening. In his mind Torrhen believed he should still be preparing to face the White Walkers and the army of the dead, but instead he was back at Winterfell, seemingly back before everything had gone to the Seven Hells. He remembered that conversation from earlier, of Sansa bickering with Arya and Rickon smashing his food into his clothing. He remembered it from almost a decade ago, but it had happened today.

After his dismissal from the training yard, Torrhen fought the urge to end Greyjoy once and for all, and instead stormed off to the Godswood. The snow hadn't fallen yet thanks to wherever he was seemingly being in the heart of summer, but still the Weirwood Tree was spectacular. Torrhen fell to his knees before the tree, burying his face in the soil beneath the tree. "Why am I being tormented?" He spat out, his teeth clenched. "Is this my punishment? For the atrocities I did to win back Winterfell? For failing to love my wife?"

"This is no punishment, Torrhen Stark." An old voice came from behind the tree. Torrhen lifted his body so that he was simply kneeling before the tree, as an old man in black feathery clothing walked around the Weirwood tree and into view.

"Who are you?" Torrhen asked warningly. He got to his feet. "How did you get here?"

"It is yourself that you want to ask that question to, Black Wolf. Not me." The man said, and Torrhen knew he was right.

"Who am I?" He whispered.

"You are Torrhen, of House Stark. King of Winter." The man said. "But you are also simply Torrhen Stark, the eleven-year-old, second son of Lord Eddard."

"How is that possible?" Torrhen asked.

"The last time you were here…" The man began.

"I died." Torrhen spat bitterly. "I fought the Night King and I lost."

"You fought and you won." The man corrected. "You and your companions bled on the roots of the Weirwood in a manner that the Old Gods had not seen in millennia, and they granted you a second chance."

The information whirled around in Torrhen's head. "I've been put back into the past?"

The man nodded. "In a manner of speaking."

"So I can change it?" Torrhen asked. "I can change everything, I can save everyone?"

"Again, in a manner of speaking." The man said.

"What do you mean?" Torrhen asked angrily.

The man smiled and walked closer to Torrhen. "Reality is like a tree." He said, his hand brushing against the white bark. "Each branch has new circumstances. A different death, a new child born. The time your mind belongs to still exists, you died killing the Night King and the survivors of the Great War moved on. This is a separate branch, where you can shape the future to whatever you see fit."

Torrhen was beginning to understand. "Did Cregan…" He couldn't finish.

"Your son Cregan was officially crowned King Cregan when he was 6 years of age, and he lived to be 103." The man said happily. He waved his arms around and the scene shifted slightly.

Torrhen turned to see a middle-aged man sat down on the rock that Torrhen's Father loved so much, oiling a longsword that Torrhen recognised as his old Valyrian Steel blade, Winter's Bite. Around him ran two girls, no older than 7, and a younger boy of about 5. Torrhen watched as the girls giggled, ganging up on the boy and pushing him into the pond.

"Sara, Jonelle." The man warned kindly. "What have I said about picking on Torrhen?"

"He named his son after me?" Torrhen whispered.

The old man nodded. "He grew up on stories from your sister Sansa and your wife, and he revered you as a hero." The scene around them went back to Torrhen's own Godswood, although a tear was rolling down Torrhen's cheek. "He was known as Cregan the Great, leading the North into a period of peace and advancement, as well as proving his might on the battlefield when the Ghiscari revolted against Daenerys."

"Why did you show me that?" Torrhen whispered. "To show what I missed?"

"To put your mind at ease." The man said sharply. "You can forge yourself a new life here, one where you get to live to see your children grow old."

"A life where I alone am forced to convince everybody of a threat that they don't believe in." Torrhen said bitterly.

"You will not be alone." The old man told him. "The Old Gods are generous. They have allowed others to remember up until their own deaths in your timeline, but changes will be made, for only death pays for life."

Torrhen grew angrier at that. "Hasn't there been enough death!" He shouted. "I died here, in the spot I am standing now, amongst the bravest men and women we had! They all died to protect you!" He could see the old man recoil in surprise. "Yes, I know who you are, you are the Three Eyed Raven."

"Clever." The man smirked.

"Haven't enough people died?" Torrhen asked again.

"This is your reality, Torrhen Stark. Do not forget that." Bloodraven's old body told him. "Those that will remember will benefit your mission. Those that are sacrificed in order to bring them here will not. Use this knowledge wisely, or else you will meet the same end as you did in your other reality."

Torrhen snapped his eyes shut and balled his fists tightly. "I will not die fighting that monster again. I will not decorate my home with my blood!" He exclaimed again, opening his eyes.

To his surprise, the man had disappeared without a trace. Torrhen looked around frantically, trying to find him, although he stopped moving once he saw a figure towards the entrance of the Godswood. The figure of his own Father.

"What do you mean you won't die again?" Ned Stark asked him, glaring down at him and demanding an explanation with his cold, icy grey eyes.


	2. A Second Chance

**Wow what a reaction… I uploaded the last chapter before I went to bed and woke up to near enough 250 emails purely from FanFiction! Thank you to all who have followed and favourited, and especially those who have reviewed. Your reaction and feedback spurred me on to finish this chapter so quickly after the last one, so don't underestimate your impact!**

**I should have probably put this into my last chapter introduction, but just to let everybody know clearly… this will not be a Torrhen/Daenerys story. Torrhen and Daenerys will be involved in the story heavily, and they will both have very important plots going forward, but they will not get together.**

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter too! A reminder that I own nothing recognisable from the show or the books, no matter how much I'd love to.**

* * *

The sun had long since set when Torrhen had finished his tale of the War of the Five King's, heading over to Meereen and travelling back to fight against first the Bolton's, and then the dead, marking out the exact spot that he had bled to death after the Night King had bested him in combat. Ned had been silent throughout most of the tale, interrupting only to scold Torrhen over some of the less honourable things that the young Stark had had to do, and also to mourn his children and wife when tales of their deaths came.

"It's quite a tale." Ned admitted, wringing his hands together nervously.

Torrhen nodded. "It was hell, Father. It was all seven of them at once."

Ned rose to his feet, having been sitting on his favoured rock and stretched his legs out. He took a minute to take it all out and then chuckled. "Your imagination is a wonder, Torrhen. I should be worried about the darkness of your tale, but truly, it's a story worthy of the greatest bards."

Torrhen was confused. "I'm not making it up!" He exclaimed. "You saw the old man, you heard his words!"

"I don't know what I heard." Ned countered, denial setting in firmly. "All I know is that you took a fierce blow to the head not too long ago and you have been acting odd ever since. Now you tell me a tale of war, treason and legends long dead. Tell me, what am I supposed to believe? The Dragons are dead, the White Walker's are gone, and the Queen would never betray Robert like that…"

"You don't know her, Father." Torrhen scoffed. "You don't really know him."

Ned's face grew stern. "Take care how you speak, son." He warned.

Torrhen shook his head and kicked out at some of the wood chips that littered the Godswood. "I knew I shouldn't have said anything. I knew it was too good to be true." He muttered.

"You just need rest." Ned tried to say, but Torrhen scowled back at him.

"I need to do something!" The boy roared. "I watched as my brother's body was lifted up above the Twins flayed by his own bannerman. I watched helplessly as Rickon took an arrow in his back trying to run to safety. I saw my own mother get speared in the gut thousands of miles away from home. I saw thousands of men slaughtered at a fucking wedding!" He screamed. He turned away catching his breath as the tears started to fall. "All of that will happen if you don't listen to me and believe me."

Ned glared back down at his son, trying to cow him into silence. "I will forget your words tonight." He muttered coldly. "I will forget that you spoke to me in that manner. Go back to the castle, Torrhen, and only leave your room for meals and lessons. Stay out of the library and stay away from the training grounds until I give you leave. You will tell nobody of this story that you have concocted. Am I understood?"

"Father…" Torrhen began, feeling like a small child for the first time since he had returned.

"Am I." Ned raised his voice. "Understood?"

Torrhen lowered his head in anger, and bit back through his clenched teeth. "Yes Father."

"Good. Now get out of here." The Stark patriarch ordered. Torrhen turned on his heels and skulked out of the wooded area, and left his Father needing to sit back down on his rock. Ned's mind was racing. Of course it was a tale cooked up by the concussion, but Torrhen had spoken with such venom and bitterness that Ned didn't even know his son could muster. Something wasn't right here, and Ned hated the thought of not knowing what that was.

* * *

Catelyn was fast asleep in her chambers by the time that Ned left the Godswood and went to bed, so the Lord of Winterfell went to his own, colder rooms. Settling into bed was a challenge, as was falling asleep. Ned tossed and turned for what must have been a couple of hours as his son's words filled his mind.

Giving up on sleep, Ned knew that there was only one person that he could talk to about all of this. The problem was, Ned hadn't spoken to him in almost 15 years. Groaning, the Stark Lord got up and got redressed, before opening his door to the guard that stood outside it. "Go and get Jory and tell him to meet me in my solar." He commanded.

Twenty minutes later, a half asleep and slightly dishevelled Jory Cassell stood in the doorway. "Lord Stark." He bowed his head.

"I have a task for you." Ned said solemnly, sat at his desk and finishing off the letter that he was writing. "This is highly important, and I would only trust you to do this."

"My Lord does me great honour." Jory said proudly.

Ned chuckled. "You won't be so happy in a minute." He folded the letter over and dripped some hot, grey wax onto the folds, before stamping it with his own personal seal. "Take this to Howland Reed at Greywater Watch. This letter is for his eyes only, Jory. Do you understand?"

"Aye, My Lord." Jory nodded. "How do I find him?"

Ned had a map already laid out. "Now we're in the height of summer, so there's only a couple of places that Greywater Watch would have floated too…" He began, before giving out every bit of information that he remembered from his time spent on campaign with his Crannog friend.

Two hours later, still in the dead of night, Jory Cassell rode out of the East Gate towards the Kingsroad, and Ned watched him go hoping that he had made the right choice.

* * *

Of course, even after his Father's warning Torrhen wasn't going to stay in his room all day. The next morning, he woke up before the sun had risen and quickly got into his old archery gear. Nimbly exiting the room, he made it down to the archery range and grabbed his bow. Relishing the feel of it in his now unharmed hand, he nocked an arrow, holding his thumb to his cheek for longer than necessary to get himself back in the mindset of calmness that was needed. He straightened his index and middle finger of his right hand, letting go of the string and watched the arrow rocket into the large black spot on the cloth that indicated the centre. He nocked another arrow and repeated the process.

A dozen and a half arrows had sunken into the black painted mark when a voice came from behind him. "Father's going to be mad at you." Torrhen swivelled around to see Arya sitting on the fence beside the range. Torrhen knew that but shrugged and fired another one off anyway. Arya jumped down from the fence and walked behind Torrhen, so she was on his other side. "I think Mother's mad too. She was too quiet at dinner yesterday."

"Did you sheep shift Sansa's bed again?" Torrhen rolled his eyes, nocking another arrow and slowing his breathing down.

"No!" Arya exclaimed. Torrhen just raised an eyebrow, and Arya broke into a grin. "Maybe."

Torrhen fired the arrow. "Then that's why Mother was angry."

"No it wasn't!" Arya complained. "She was talking to Robb quietly, but I noticed them say your name and Theon's." Torrhen's brow furrowed at the mention of the Greyjoy boy. "And Jon said that you beat Theon so hard that his eye swelled up!" Torrhen didn't respond to that, but his smirk was obvious in the low daylight as dawn began to break. "Why do you hate him now?"

"I've always hated him." Torrhen shrugged, nocking another arrow and firing it, splitting another arrow in the process.

"Woah…" Arya said, impressed at the archery on show. She then shook her head to recollect her thoughts. "No, you've not liked him but never wanted to beat on him."

"Just leave it, Arya." Torrhen said impatiently. "Please."

Arya shrugged, and held her head high. "Fine, don't tell me. I just wanted to tell you that he looks really funny now, that's all."

"It's not a thing to laugh over, Arya." Ned's voice came from the balcony above, and Torrhen groaned audibly. Of course, he had to get caught on his first morning. "Run along, let me talk to your brother."

Arya grinned at Torrhen's discomfort. "Good luck." She laughed, before running over towards the castle. Torrhen moved to go and collect his arrows, which gave Ned time to get down to ground level and join him in the archery range.

"Nice shooting." Ned admitted, helping Torrhen remove the last couple of arrows from the target. "You've improved."

"I've had 9 years of practice." Torrhen rolled his eyes.

Ned sighed. "Enough of that, please Torrhen." He thought of mentioning his letter to Howland but decided against it. "While the shooting was impressive, I don't remember giving you permission to be out here." Torrhen nodded knowingly, hanging his head down. Ned put his hand out to grab Torrhen's chin gently and lifted it so grey eyes met grey eyes. "You're going to be a fine man, Torrhen. But a man must know when it is right to obey, and when it is right to disobey. I am not your enemy, I swear to you."

"I know you're not." Torrhen admitted, placing his own hand on Ned's. "I'm sorry for how I acted yesterday. It was unbecoming."

Ned smiled and withdrew his hand. "You are a Stark of Winterfell, and the wolfs blood is strong in you. I'm just glad that you can channel it in such a way." Ned nodded to the archery range.

Shrugging, Torrhen said. "Everything is peaceful when there's an arrow nocked. I can just focus on the line between arrow and target. Other times… I just get overwhelmed."

Ned nodded. "I understand. That being said, you did disobey me."

"I'll go to my room." Torrhen said monotonously.

Ned shook his head. "Get some breakfast, and then you're to help Maester Luwin all day. Keeping you cooped up is asking for trouble."

Torrhen smiled and leaned in to hug his father for the first time in years. Ned was confused at first but put his strong arms around his boy before Torrhen pulled away and walked back towards the main castle, happier at the outcome of this talk than the last.

* * *

Torrhen was told to go back to his room and stay there that evening though, but he was allowed to grab a book from the library before he was shut away. Choosing _Winter's Kings, or The Legends and Lineages of the Starks of Winterfell _by Maester Childer, Torrhen settled himself down on his bed trying to understand everything he could about his House Founder when his door opened, and in came his twin.

"Sansa I'm not supposed to have visitors." Torrhen told her.

Sansa smiled at him sweetly. "I know that, but you didn't come for supper and Father said I could bring this up to you." She had a basket in her hands filled with some bread and hard cheese. "I've not seen you in a couple of days and it feels strange." Torrhen smiled and moved over on his bed so that Sansa could join him on it. He placed the book down carefully and ripped a part of the bread off, stuffing it in his mouth. Sansa saw the title and groaned in disgust. "Why are you reading that boring old thing?"

"It's interesting." Torrhen shrugged, intentionally speaking his mouth full of bread as he knew Sansa hated that, and crumbs flew out of his mouth towards her.

Sansa shrieked and slapped him on the arm. "Torrhen no!" She cried, laughing slightly. "That's disgusting."

Grinning, Torrhen swallowed his mouthful and turned back to the book. "It's interesting. I want to learn as much as I can about the Long Night."

"The one in Old Nan's tales?" She asked.

Torrhen nodded. "It happened, Sansa." He began, before remembering Ned's request not to tell anyone about his past. "Winterfell is a fairly obvious name, isn't it? This is where Winter, fell."

Sansa still shook her head. "It's still no Florian and Jonquil." She told him seriously.

"Urgh." Torrhen groaned.

"What?" Sansa asked pushing him gently. They fell silent after that, and Sansa asked. "Are you ok?"

Torrhen looked over at her and saw that she was genuinely concerned. He smiled sadly, thinking about his son. "Not really." He admitted. "I've got a lot of thoughts running through my mind."

"About Mira?" Sansa asked, and Torrhen's eyes snapped to hers.

"What?" He asked her.

"Mira Forrester." Sansa shrugged. "I know you liked her when she came to our nameday celebrations a couple of years ago. I know you were disappointed when she wasn't at the last one. Jeyne says that you're in love with her."

Mira… how could he have forgotten? Trying to remember if she was still in the North or not, Torrhen prodded. "She's probably in Highgarden, I think her Mother was trying to arrange it."

"Not yet, or not that Mother has told me." Sansa admitted before sighing dreamily. "Ah… Highgarden. I'd love to visit there one day. Even up here I've heard tales of Lord Tyrell's beauty and valour." Torrhen was confused and was about to question Sansa when she continued. "You should write her a love letter! Oh, that would be so romantic!"

Torrhen scoffed and picked the book back up and turned to his last read page. Sansa huffed and stood up from the bed.

"Fine, I'm only trying to make you happy and let you fall in love, but if you'd rather I left you to your boring book about thousands of years ago…" She trailed off dramatically.

"Ok then." Torrhen said with a smirk.

Huffing, Sansa fled the room, slamming the door as she went in jest, and Torrhen immediately went over to his desk and got some parchment and a quill. He thought about what to say to her and started scratching something down, before shaking his head and scrunching up the parchment.

Two broken quills and around a dozen scrunched up pieces of parchment later, Torrhen finally had his letter. Deciding to go to Maester Luwin in the morning to get some black wax he set that to one side. Another idea popped into his head then, if he had forgotten Mira was still alive now, what else might he forget? He grabbed another piece of parchment and began writing in Valyrian so that it would be more difficult to be read and began to detail everything that had happened in his old life. As he went, he vowed to himself that things would be better this time, and that none of his family would die in the coming fight. He had been given a second chance by the Gods, and he most definitely wasn't going to squander it.

* * *

**Ned doesn't quite believe him… yet. He will do soon, but it's a lot to take in when the kid that's telling you supposedly had a massive concussion a few days earlier. Torrhen didn't mention Jon's heritage yet because that wasn't the most important part of the story.**

**Writing younger Sansa and Arya is also quite fun, and I enjoyed both of those scenes a lot.**

**What might be quite fun for those of you that wish to do so is for all you readers out there to guess who will regain their memories out of the other characters. I've already told one person as they were PMing me during the planning process, so they will stay out of it, but for the rest of you it may be quite fun. A hint was made in this chapter about another person who remembers at this time, whereas a few others won't actually remember until later in the story.**

**Thanks again for all of you who have reacted positively to this story so far!**

**Reviews:**

**wbdionizio: Sorry, not happening.**

**Guest (Unlikely Torrhen/Dany): It's very unlikely!**

**coldblue2015: Those that also have memories of Torrhen's world, not necessarily the Battle of Winterfell as many died before then, will be revealed at different points during the story. The first is Chapter 9, the last one to be revealed is Chapter 43.**

**ABEBOABDU: While Mira lives, Torrhen will never look at another girl the same way this time. He felt guilty enough sleeping with Dany before he had heard she had died in his last life.**

**Dzerx: Why does he have to die? His death was devastating to Torrhen, and the Black Wolf will try to make sure that it doesn't happen again.**

**ZabuzasGirl: Thank you!**

**HearMyRoar: It just got a bit 'something happens to change it, but I don't trust myself yet so make something happen to revert it back to canon'. The last series is 100% my favourite because I got to branch out a bit thanks to my own imagination being a lot better than it was when I started. This is a chance for me to tell a completely different story. I have plans for Sansa that I hope everyone will be happy with!**

**Freakdogsflare: I got the idea from Avengers Endgame to be honest, so yeah, each different timeline is a separate branch on a tree. The world where Torrhen died beating the Night King is still going on.**

**C.E.W: Ned knows that something is up, and he saw a lot more of that conversation with the Three Eyed Raven than you'd think. Edmure Tully is not one that will remember.**

**Silver crow: I initially tried to make it so that he wasn't the best sword but the best bow, so I guess I failed as it went on haha. He's very good with a sword, but before he was sent back he was nowhere near Jon or Robb's level, but he was an expert bowman. Obviously his growth in Rises means that he's a lot better than them all now. As for the King of Winter bit… the last story was about his rise, this one isn't.**


	3. Promise Me

**The reaction from the first two chapters has been so good I just can't bring myself to think about either of my other two ongoing stories, nor my sequel to As High as Honour which I am in the process of planning out. Kudos to all of you for being so excited for this story!**

**I'm just going to jump straight into the chapter however. I own nothing but Torrhen no matter how much I wish George R R Martin would hand the rights over to me.**

* * *

The days since Torrhen's chat with Sansa had seen the boy constantly in the training yard. His beatdown of Theon aside, Torrhen had had to get used to his younger body once more and was more determined than ever before to get himself fit and ready for all the wars that were inevitably to follow. Every stroke of his training blade against the dummy he was hitting also brought Torrhen a new plan to dismiss almost instantly, and his lack of ability to truly plan how to save everybody made him fight the straw dummy even harder.

His renewed focus hadn't gone unnoticed either. While Theon had stayed away from the practice yard since he had tasted his own blood, Robb and Jon continued their lessons. The pair were waiting for Ser Rodrik to arrive when they heard the blows Torrhen was making and went to watch.

"He's been hacking at that dummy for days now." Robb muttered quietly so that only Jon could hear. "Does he even sleep?"

Jon shrugged. "I've never seen him so determined." He noted.

Robb could only agree, but before he could step forwards and say anything to his younger brother, Ser Rodrik appeared. "Ah good, Torrhen has started early once again." The elder man threw two more practice swords at Robb and Jon, the pair both catching them. "Just a casual spar to begin with boys, let me see if you've actually learnt anything that I've tried to teach you. Make your opponent yield."

Robb nodded and stared down his bastard brother with an arrogant smirk as he picked up his shield while Jon just looked focused, and once both were correctly armoured up Jon lunged forwards slashing his blade downwards. The heir to Winterfell brought his practice sword up to block it and the bout began in earnest.

It didn't take too long for Robb to be on the forefront, twirling his wrist around to attack Jon from multiple directions with power. Snow's shield was getting a bit of a battering, but he held firm, and soon Jon found a gap in Robb's stance, stabbing out and catching Robb in his shield arm. The eldest yelped, and Jon capitalised by knocking Robb's sword out of his hand and holding the training sword threateningly to his chest.

"I yield." Robb panted. Jon actually smiled for once and lowered his sword.

"You got arrogant." Torrhen's voice called out. Robb turned around in surprise to see his brother stood at the edge of the courtyard.

"I what?" He asked.

Torrhen stepped forwards, himself ready for a spar with sword and shield. "You let your shield arm loosen and Jon found the gap. Defence is the most important part, if you've got a shield you need to control it at all times."

Robb was lost for words at being lectured by his younger brother. "He's right." Ser Rodrik said. "Your shield is the barrier between life and death, and you were so convinced that you had won you lowered your defence."

Feeling berated, Robb apologised to Ser Rodrik and sidled up to Torrhen. "I'm the eldest, remember. It should be me teaching you." He said quietly.

Torrhen's smile looked forced. "Winter is Coming, brother, and trouble comes with it. We must all be ready." He said mournfully. Robb's eyes widened in surprise at Torrhen's words, but before he could question them the boy had walked off towards the castle. Shaking his head, Robb moved back into the circle to face Jon again, but this time he tightened his grip on his shield and made sure to focus more.

* * *

A little bit later that day Robb was sat beside Ned as the elder Stark took court for that week. He couldn't concentrate however, as Torrhen's strange actions kept his mind occupied. He was harshly brought back to reality with a sharp calling of his name from his Father. "Sorry, Father." He said quickly. He looked around to see that the room was now empty, barring Ned and himself.

"You were lost in the clouds today." Ned said bluntly.

Robb thought to shake his head and protest, but his Father's eyes bore into his own, and he found himself nodding sheepishly. "Torrhen was just acting strangely earlier. Well, he's been acting strange for a while now. Ever since I hit him around the head."

Sighing loudly, Ned nodded his understanding and poured them both a small cup of wine. Robb took it gingerly, but Ned told him. "You are my heir, Robb. One day the troubles of Winterfell and all the North will fall upon your shoulders, and when the time comes you will need the occasional cup. Have one with me now." Robb sipped at it, but was careful not to take too much, wanting to not disappoint his Father and show that he could be a good Lord. "Now, what have you noticed?"

Robb thought for a moment. "He's more… mournful. Like he's not got much reason to be happy. And he's suddenly helping Ser Rodrik in the yard, not being trained by him."

Ned smiled. "Good, your eyes are opened and you're seeing. A good Lord knows his household, he knows their moods and their mannerisms and can work out when something is amiss. Your people will appreciate you more if you take an interest in them." Robb nodded, searing that lesson into memory. "As for Torrhen, he's fine, I've spoken to him at length."

"Are you sure?" Robb asked quickly. Ned nodded. "He just seems different, I don't know if he's mad at me or not."

Ned smiled, and ruffled Robb's hair. "He's not angry at you." He said calmingly. "I'm handling it, I promise." Robb nodded and finished his wine. "Now go on, I'm sure you would rather be getting up to some mischief with Jon and Theon than sitting here."

Grinning, Robb thanked his Father and left the room, leaving Ned once again pondering on what to do with his second son.

* * *

At the same time that Ned was trying to calm Robb's worries, Torrhen was again outside training his martial skills. So far, Torrhen had noted that the best thing about being in his younger body was that he had all 5 fingers on his left hand back. Gripping his junior bow with his undamaged hand, the Stark was testing himself to the limit at the archery range. He went to nock an arrow, before adding 4 more to his left hand. Torrhen took a deep breath, and then loosed, nocking again and firing again until all of the arrows had left his bow and buried themselves into the targets within seconds. Most were dotted around the sheet covering the target, with one just bedding itself outside. Frustrated, Torrhen walked over to collect the arrows before trying again.

The second go was even worse, his youthful body not able to get the accuracy he had once had, but the third time he tried it all 5 arrows landed in the black spot marking the centre.

"How are you so good?" Arya's voice asked from behind him. Yet again she had snuck up on Torrhen in the archery yard.

"Shouldn't you be with Septa Mordane?" Torrhen asked raising an eyebrow.

Arya shrugged. "She was fawning over Sansa's stitching again." The nine-year-old replied bitterly. "I'd much rather be here watching you than have to listen to that again."

Torrhen smirked, before an idea formed in his head. He turned the bow around in his hand so that the string was facing his sister and stretched his arm out. "Take it." He said.

"What?" Arya asked.

"Take it." Torrhen repeated. "You don't like stitching, you can't dance very well, and I heard you try to play the harp once…"

"You promised you'd never speak of that again." Arya grumbled.

"Take it." Torrhen insisted kindly. "If you can't be a girl, you might be able to be an archer." An image of his sister firing arrows at the dead from the Winterfell battlements flashed in his mind quickly, but he knew that he was doing the right thing. Arya took the bow and began to get a feel for it. Torrhen went away briefly, and came back with the training arrows that he, Robb and Jon had used as children. He handed her one and said. "Clip the arrow nock onto the string." He instructed. She was clumsy but managed it. Torrhen then went to edit her posture, standing her correctly as she loosely aimed at the target. "Now draw the string back." Arya took a deep breath, her chest puffed out with the excess air in her lungs. Torrhen stopped her mid draw. "Always breathe naturally." He instructed. "Breathe in gently as you pull." He told her, watching as Arya did as she was told. "And now fire on an out breath, you'll be far more accurate." Arya breathed out heavily and let go of the bow string. The arrow flew outwards but missed the target completely, disappointing the young girl. Torrhen was impressed though. "Well done." He told her. "My first go the arrow just dropped onto the ground."

"Really?" Arya asked, not believing that for a second.

Torrhen nodded. "But I practiced and practiced until I got better. If you like, I'll practice with you."

Her grey eyes truly lit up at that. "Really?" Torrhen nodded, and suddenly his face was engulfed in his sister's brown hair as she jumped up to hug him fiercely. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Torrhen chuckled at her enthusiasm and put her down gently. "Now you'll need to work hard at it. I didn't get good by not trying my hardest at every moment possible. Promise me Arya, promise me that you'll train your hardest every single day."

Arya's head was nodding up and down quicker than her arrow had been firing out from the bow. "I will I promise!"

Grinning, Torrhen then handed her another arrow, and told her. "Again."

* * *

While Robb's initial reaction was to be concerned about Torrhen, Jon's was to improve his own skills. The day after Torrhen had promised to help Arya with her archery, the Bastard of Winterfell had woken up early as well and joined Torrhen in the yard, and the pair were soon facing off against one another with wooden swords.

Jon won more often than not, his size and strength giving him a clear advantage, although Torrhen was exposing his weak spots when he could, his battle-hardened mind working to the youngers advantage.

"Keep your shield up." Torrhen insisted, after a jab to the ribs had knocked the wind out of Jon.

"Or you'll ring my head like a bell, yeah I know." Jon groaned, catching his breath. Standing and stretching himself out he gripped his sword harder and went back on the attack. Being careful to keep his shield up, Jon crossed swords a couple of times with his younger brother before using his left arm to shield bash Torrhen, sending the younger boy sprawling on the ground. He quickly rushed over and placed his foot on Torrhen's chest, holding him down.

"I yield." Torrhen said, a grimace on his face as Jon helped him up. "I can't wait until I'm bigger, this useless body is too weak…"

"You're more talented than half the boys I knew growing up." Catelyn Stark's voice was heard over the almost empty courtyard. Jon quickly stepped backwards and kept his head down, not wanting to draw the ire of Lady Stark. "Keep training and soon you'll be the finest knight in the realm." She boasted to Torrhen.

Torrhen shook his head. "I'll never be a knight, Mother." He rolled his eyes. "I'm too Northern."

"A Barrow Knight then, like your Uncle Brandon was." Cat told him, she held her hand up to his cheek, concern in her eyes as she looked at her son before scorn replaced it, as she looked at Jon. "Leave us, boy."

"Mother." Torrhen said warningly.

"Now." Cat demanded, ignoring her son.

Jon nodded, turning to Torrhen and saying. "I'll see you later on, Tor."

Torrhen nodded apologetically, before turning back to his Mother as Jon walked out of earshot. "That was cruel, you should try and be a bit nicer to him."

Catelyn ignored him again, refusing to talk about the way Jon's presence made her feel. "Maester Luwin came to us last night. It seems you stole a raven."

Torrhen was surprised, as he thought he had covered his tracks well. "I may have."

She pulled out a sealed letter, with the broken Weirwood seal of House Forrester on. "That would explain this letter from one of the Forrester girls."

"You opened it?" Torrhen asked, his temper rising slightly.

"Watch your words, Torrhen Stark." Cat warned, and Torrhen backed down slightly. "We are worried for you. You're not acting yourself, and now you're writing letters to maidens of a lowly house…"

"The Forrester's are as loyal as they come…" Torrhen interrupted, before he was interrupted back.

"They are also a lowly house, sworn to House Glover." Cat insisted firmly. "I know you cared for this girl as a child, but you have an obligation as a member of House Stark. We wed for the benefit of our Houses, not our hearts."

Torrhen snatched the letter out of Cat's hands. His thoughts turned to baby Cregan, and then to his wedding to Wylla, the girl that he was cursed to never be able to love. "I know my duties well enough, Mother." He growled, before he stormed away from her, heading towards the crypts.

* * *

Torrhen hadn't been down in the crypts for very long when he heard the old doors creak open from down the corridor, and a few minutes after that he heard his father's footsteps. He was stood by Lyanna Stark's statue, now knowing what he needed to do in order for Ned to believe him.

"Your Mother is very worried." Said Ned as he took a place beside Torrhen.

"I don't mean to worry her." Torrhen insisted, holding the letter from Mira at his side. "She just doesn't understand. Nobody does."

"Then tell me." Ned said calmly. "Talk to me about them, your wife, and your son."

Torrhen could tell he was still having a hard time believing, but he appreciated the effort none the less. "You've met Wylla Manderly, haven't you?"

Ned nodded. "She was only young the last time I visited White Harbour."

Torrhen breathed out a laugh through his nose. "She was a fierce spirit, a true Northern Queen. She dyed her hair green to show her pride in her family after the horror at the Twins rocked the North."

"She sounded like a fine wife." Ned admitted.

"She may have been." Torrhen shrugged. "I was too lost in my grief to truly see it." He held up the letter. "Mira… ever since I reconnected with her at Bitterbridge, it was always her. Then I got most of her family killed…"

"But they're here." Ned reminded him. "No matter what happened in your dream… in your time." He corrected himself quickly, but Torrhen knew what he meant.

"It wasn't a dream, Father." He said shortly. "It all happened. Your execution, Robert's bastard children, Roose Bolton's betrayal, the Night King. All of it."

Ned looked exasperated. "But tell me son, how am I to believe it? You speak of witchcraft and magic, not real life."

Torrhen sighed and looked up at his aunt's statue. Now was the time to prove himself as truthful. "Once Robb died, we knew that the only safe place for us was Greywater Watch. I found it and Howland Reed took us in. He told us all about her." He could hear Ned's breath hitch in his mouth. "I understand why you didn't tell us about her. How it all ended…"

"You know nothing of how it ended." Ned said quickly, showing rare emotion.

"But Howland knew enough." Torrhen said solemnly. "He told me about Harrenhal, about the Knight of the Laughing Tree's true identity, and about what truly happened at the Tower of Joy."

Ned was silent, and so Torrhen looked up at him and saw tears in his eyes at the memory. "He swore a vow." Ned whispered.

"As did you, that day." Torrhen explained. "Howland had no choice, you were gone, and I needed something to convince Daenerys Targaryen that I was an ally. I needed that knowledge, and I needed that sword."

Ned looked down at him, his eyes pained. "Knowledge?" He asked in a whisper.

Torrhen nodded. "Jon forgave you." He told Ned. "He was angry at first aye, but he knew the truth really and he forgave you for protecting him."

"How can you know…" Ned whispered.

"His name is Aegon Targaryen." Torrhen spoke clearly. "You swore to protect him from King Robert so you lied to everyone, and in doing so you saved the entire world, Father."

It was at that point, the exact moment that Ned stared into his son's eyes, full of sorrow and older than a boy of 11's should be, that Ned believed everything that Torrhen had said. "By all the gods…" He whispered. He placed his hands on Torrhen's shoulders. "We must go up to my solar. You need to tell me everything again. Everything that happened and leave no detail untold."

* * *

**So, there we are, Ned believes him! Things are going to start rolling now, as Ned actually has the power to act and bring about changes that will benefit the living.**

**I've basically split this into 13 different sup plots, and the first one, that I've titled **_**Realisation**_** will end with Chapter 4. **

**I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, I know it was a lot of training antics, but again, the plot will begin to move from now as new characters come into play and canon changes irreparably. **

**Until next time!**

**Reviews:**

**icelord10: Ned is perfectly suited to the North and Northern politics, he's not dumb as a door, he's just not keen on the South and their way of acting.**

**DarylDixon'sLover: I have great plans for Jon don't worry!**

**ABEBOABDU: I'll update it as fast as I can, but I get too excited and update as soon as a chapter is finished so there are no back up chapters!**

**Hear My Fury: Sansa is still only 11 years old here. Don't worry she'll begin to wise up, but I never said that she'd be going to the Capital… As for the other bits about Ned and Robb, spoilers!**

**C.E.W: Mira hasn't gone to House Tyrell yet. The other bits are too spoilery.**

**Patriot-112: It's just a list of literally everything that happened in the past life, the Valyrian is only so that not many people, if any, can read it.**

**Bad Ass Female Fighter: So much happens from this moment (297 AC currently) that the Direwolves won't be seen until Chapter 21, so there's plenty of things to happen between now and then that may mean the letter doesn't come. He will spar with Joffrey though.**

**TheWumpus: Once it was clear that Ned didn't believe him Torrhen just grew angrier and acted more like a child so didn't think that bit through. As you can see though, they spoke about it this chapter as was always the plan.**

**Freaksdogsflare: There's a timeline for literally anything aye.**

**Maleivius: I hope you liked the reaction!**

**Guest (reasoning): The meta reason is because this chapter outline existed, where Ned had to allay Robb's worries while not truly believing himself and Torrhen was always going to tell Ned about Jon's parentage at the end. In world, see my response to TheWumpus.**

**Silver crow: I think you're doing Robb a bit of a disservice there to be honest, but he will have a very big part to play in the story. He'll also find out about his 'other self' and the reaction to that will be fun to write.**

**Lightningscar: Glad to have you back reviewing! Ned was basically in denial about what he saw, that's why he was explaining it all away. Torrhen was just experiencing all sorts of emotions. He never really liked Theon anyway, and then he had spent years hating him. Just because he agreed to help him win back Pyke doesn't mean that he could stay calm seeing Theon back in Winterfell. As for his fighting ability, I get that, but the lesson was just backhanded strikes. Theon was unprepared for all of Torrhen's rage and that's why he came off a lot worse.**

**Dipsyy: I decided the pairing for this before I even knew what the story would be like!**

**Masso 2010: But he wouldn't be able to hatch them…**

**linetel: The back in time stories certainly give writers the chance to have a lot of fun with it, and I'm excited to explore it all. I agree it was a bit dull at times, but that's purely down to my inexperience as a writer 3 years ago, I like to think I'm better now!**


	4. The Black Wolf

**This chapter flowed so well, and thankfully it's done extremely quickly! This marks the last of the **_**Realisation **_**arc, and a brand new one will begin in chapter 5. We've still got a long way to go before the start of the actual series however, that I've marked out for chapter 21…**

**And just as a note because there has been a few reviews mentioning this to me. No, I am not going to kill Cat gruesomely nor soon in the story. As those of you who read Rises will know, she was an extremely important part of Torrhen's life and their relationship was one of the best things to write about. I know she was awful to Jon, but she had her reasons for that.**

**That being said, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. **

**I of course own nothing but Torrhen.**

* * *

Ned and Torrhen had pretty much shut themselves into Ned's solar for a week after their conversation in the crypts. Documents and parchment were everywhere, as the pair went into detail about Torrhen's past life. They had finally come on to the Third Battle of Winterfell, and Ned was still heartbroken at the thought of three battles outside of his castle.

"Stannis thought that he could repair his reputation with a victory against House Bolton." Torrhen began explaining, remembering speaking with Ser Davos Seaworth on the matter. "But his forces were unused to the snow, he couldn't convince any of the Northerners to join him and he sacrificed his own daughter to the flames. He was no King to inspire loyalty, Father."

"Was?" Ned asked.

Torrhen shrugged. "From everything you say about him I believe that he was corrupted by the demands of the war and the Red Woman. Without her, and he will likely be different." Ned nodded. "Then of course, there was my own battle for Winterfell."

Ned grimaced, Torrhen had spared no detail in his campaign in the North, and he wasn't too keen on some of the gruesome things that his son had had to do, burning Lady Dustin inside her own castle and murdering a boy of 15 to end his house among the worst, but he too had had to do some horrid things in wars, and it was partially his fault that the North had been left in such a state. He shook his head. "You planned that well, as it seems you did the third."

Ned picked up the drawing of Winterfell's defences and studied it well. "I had help." Torrhen admitted. "The finest minds still alive to us at that time all combined there and it still wasn't enough."

Ned pursed his lips. "This time will be different. We'll have more experienced commanders, armies from all over Westeros."

Torrhen nodded. "And more Dragonglass." He commented.

"Dragonglass kills White Walkers?" Ned asked to reaffirm.

"Aye, and the wights." Torrhen added. "And Stannis Baratheon sits atop a mountain of it. We barely scratched the surface and could wield enough for a hundred thousand men, women and children. Imagine what we could do with 10 years' worth of mining?"

Ned could imagine it. "Once the North is in order and aware of what is due to happen, I'll have to go South and talk to Stannis."

Torrhen didn't look happy. "We don't do well in the South, Father."

"But I shall have you there with me to guide me through who is trustworthy and who is not." Ned said firmly. "I will not leave my family in such a situation again, I will never trust the South as long as I live, but we need them."

"Aye." Torrhen said grimly. "We do."

The door burst open then, and Cat walked in, her eyes narrow at the pair of them. "A week." She said strongly. "A week you both have been shut away in here with no words but requests for food. Are you going to explain why?"

Ned and Torrhen looked at one another guiltily. "Apologies, Catelyn." Ned said, walking over to her and taking her hands in his. "I will explain everything soon. Things are complicated right now though, I need time to work things through."

Cat looked around at the room, and her voice changed from firm to almost pleading. "You look like you're planning for war." She whispered. "What don't I know? What's going on?"

"Soon." Ned promised.

Cat nodded. "You need to go and change into some fresh clothes and have a wash anyway, both of you." She added more firmly to Torrhen. "Our scouts have spotted Reed banners two hours away."

Torrhen was confused but smiled. "Lord Howland." He said fondly. "We need to prepare for their arrival, offer them suitable…" Ned cleared his throat loudly, still not truly used to the 'King' that his son had become. "Apologies. I forgot myself."

"Quite." Cat said, confused herself.

"He's right though, have you prepared rooms for our guests?" Ned asked. Cat nodded. "Very well. Come, Torrhen. We can come back to this another time."

Torrhen nodded his understanding and walked out of the room towards his own chambers. Cat soon followed, and Ned was the last out of the room, locking the door behind him.

* * *

Two hours later and Ned was lined up with Cat, Robb and Torrhen waiting for their guests to arrive. Torrhen was eager to see Howland again, even if the man didn't remember him. He looked around and saw Arya, Jon and Bran all crammed together looking out of a window in the Main Keep.

The gates to the main castle soon opened, and in walked a handful of the small Crannogman. Torrhen recognised Howland Reed, and guessed that the boy and girl at either side were his children. Other than that, there were only a couple of guards and Jory Cassell.

"Howland, my friend." Ned greeted. Howland dropped to one knee, as did the rest of his party.

"Lord Stark, I am here to answer your letter in person." Howland said, his head facing the ground.

"Enough of that old friend." Ned insisted, bidding Howland to rise. "How was your journey?"

"Well enough, summer does the Kingsroad kindly." Howland smiled. He turned to Catelyn. "Lady Catelyn, a pleasure to see you once more."

Cat offered out her hand for Howland to kiss it. "It must have been the day of my wedding, was it not?" She asked.

Howland nodded. "A fine day, in the most terrible of times."

Ned gestured to the two Stark boys in the line. "My son and heir, Robb." He introduced. "And my second son, Torrhen."

Howland greeted them both kindly, but no more than that. "My son and heir, Jojen." He gestured to the skinny boy. "And my daughter, Meera."

"You are all welcome in Winterfell." Ned insisted. "Torrhen, could you escort Lord Howland's children to their chambers? Lord Reed and I have a lot of catching up to do."

"Of course, Father." Torrhen nodded, gesturing for the pair to follow him. They had barely made it into the castle when Jojen had spoken.

"You're the one." He said mystically. "The Wolf out of time. The Black Wolf."

Torrhen stopped and turned to Jojen, narrowing his eyes. "I don't know what you mean." He said unconvincingly.

"My brother has dreams." Meera explained.

"They used to be of a chained wolf, that broke free and flew." Jojen explained. "But when Father got your letter..."

"His dreams changed." Meera finished.

Torrhen knew that Jojen was a Greenseer from Bran. "You have the greensight?" He asked for pretence.

Jojen nodded. "I do."

"What do you see now?" Torrhen asked.

Jojen took a deep breath. "I see the Black Wolf." He said simply. "South and west and north and east the Black Wolf will go. He will see Kings rise and Kings fall, until Winter itself trembles at its presence."

The very thought chilled Torrhen. "And you think I am the Black Wolf?"

"It was your sigil in the other world." Jojen mentioned, and Torrhen looked sharply at Jojen. He pushed the boy into the wall and held his arm up against Jojen's neck, not putting any pressure on just yet.

"Stop!" Meera cried, but Torrhen held firm.

"What do you know of that?" Torrhen growled.

Jojen was calm despite his position. "I know that the first will reveal themselves soon, once you have opened your eyes."

Torrhen pressed his arm in and felt Meera clawing at his back. When he stared into Jojen's eyes he couldn't see any lies in them and released him. Jojen started coughing and Meera ran to him. "His dreams aren't exact. We can't interpret them properly." She snapped at him.

"I apologise." Torrhen sighed. "But… nobody knows what happened to me. Nobody but my Father."

"All I can tell is that 6 will join you from all corners of the world." Jojen said, unphased by what had just happened. "All with roles to play in the wars to come… But first you must go on a journey, there is one more dream that I believe is for you…"

* * *

While Torrhen showed the Reed children to their rooms, Ned escorted Howland up to his solar. Unlocking the door, the crannogman laughed at the state of the place. "You were always so organised." He jested lightly as one of his men placed a chest down in the doorway before leaving and closing it behind him

"It is testing times." Ned sighed. "The letter I sent you…" Howland retrieved it from his frog skin cloak. "I believe it all now."

Howland was surprised. "It seems too much of a far-fetched tale for you to believe, Ned." He admitted.

"He knows about the Tower." Ned said quietly. "He knows about Lyanna, Rhaegar. All of it."

Howland was unphased. "Jojen is a Greenseer, you know what that means?"

Ned nodded. "I thought they were myths."

Shaking his head, Howland explained. "The sight is more common in the Neck, it's partially why we can be in the right place to catch information passing through the causeway and elsewhere, but Jojen has it stronger than even my Father did."

"Your Father had it?" Ned asked.

"But I didn't." Howland explained. "That's why I went to the Gods Eye before Harrenhal, I wanted to see if it could be taught. Unfortunately not."

Ned leaned back in his chair. "That all seems so long ago now." He admitted.

"If Jojen is right, then worse is yet to come." Howland sighed. "How is the boy?"

"Still unaware." Ned said quickly, not wanting to stay on the topic.

"He will need to know, Ned." Howland told him. "Dark times are coming, and he is the Prince that was Promised, Jojen's sight confirms it."

Ned's final talk with Ashara Dayne came to mind. "That's a myth." He whispered.

"He has seen your son, Torrhen in his dreams." Howland explained. "He has also seen a grey dragon."

The colours of his sigil and the animal of Rhaegar's, Ned didn't miss the connection. "What has he seen of Jon?"

"He saw him wielding a family blade with a ruby hilt, fighting against the cold." Howland explained. He walked over and unlocked the chest, bringing out a long, clothed object. "There's only one blade I know of that matches the description and the legends."

He uncovered the cloth, and Ned swore. "Put that thing away." He hissed. "You swore a vow to keep it in the Neck."

"This is bigger than us now, Ned." Howland explained, laying Dark Sister on the table. "When I agreed to keep it hidden, we didn't expect to ever need it again. But with what is coming we need every Valyrian Steel blade we can get."

Ned could barely look at the sword. "He's not ready to know."

"But things are moving fast, and by the time he is ready, you will know what to do." Howland explained. "Jojen has promised me that the blade will be wielded by a dragon in the battle to come."

"What else has Jojen promised you?" Ned asked, defeated.

Howland sat himself down too. "That the Black Wolf will speak with the Gods themselves and will start us down a path of salvation."

Ned didn't understand. "Speak with the Gods? That's impossible… what does it mean?"

"It means." A voice came from behind Howland, and Torrhen stood in the doorway. "That I must travel to the Isle of Faces and converse with the Green Men. That I will learn what I must about what happened to me, and what I must do."

* * *

Together with Howland and Ned, Torrhen had come up for a perfect excuse for both his trip, and any potential knowledge of the future that needed to be spread to those that didn't need to know of Torrhen's past life. He was now unofficially a Greenseer.

At the feast that night, Torrhen spent most of his time huddled in a corner with Jojen going over all the useful information that he needed to convince people that he was a Greenseer himself, and less than a week later he felt ready to travel Southwards. He'd been given his own steel sword by his Father and a warm wolfskin cloak by his Mother, and he was just putting some final items into the sack that would be attached to his horse.

A knock at the door interrupted him as he was folding a spare shirt, and in came Sansa holding something covered in a white covering. "Hello." She said softly in the doorway.

"Come in." Torrhen smiled, as he placed the shirt in the sack.

"You're really leaving then." She said disheartened. Torrhen nodded, sitting himself on the bed and facing her.

"These… visions." He lied, hating having to do this to his twin but knowing she wouldn't understand otherwise yet. "They've been eating me away. Lord Reed has spent time on the Isle of Faces and believes that they can help me control it. I have to try."

"Why can't I come with you then?" Sansa insisted sulkily. "We've never been apart for more than a few days before."

Torrhen chuckled as she sat down heavily on the bed beside him. He placed his arm around her shoulders and let her head rest on him. "You'd hate it." He told her. "We're to sleep under the stars, not in castles. It'll be a hard ride."

Sighing dramatically as she did often, Sansa said. "I know, but it's still annoying. I always wanted to go to the South and you always wanted to just stay in Winterfell, now you're going off on an adventure and I'm stuck here having to listen to Arya whine about not being able to do boy things."

Torrhen chuckled. "You'll be fine sister. I'll be back before long."

Sansa nodded and stood back up. "Anyway, I've got some presents for you." She handed him the bundle in her hands. Torrhen took away the cloth to see that it was a modified Stark banner. "Father said that one day you would have your own holdfast and castle, and that you would need a different banner to Robb because of it, so I made you one."

He placed the rest of the bundle down on the bed and unfurled it properly. His breath caught in his mouth as it was the same as his old one, the jet black Direwolf's head on a field of white. "I love it." He whispered.

"And then there's a gift from all the rest of us." Sansa smiled. "Robb, Jon, Arya and Bran." Torrhen noticed the bundle was the leather armour of his house, again dyed a jet black. "Robb overheard Jojen talking about the Black Wolf and thinking it was you, and Arya remembered the story of Mother's uncle Brynden."

A tear dropped from Torrhen's eye as the memories filled him. "I love them." He whispered. He placed the armour down and gripped his sister in a fierce hug, which she reciprocated. "Thank you."

They held one another for the longest time before Sansa let go. Torrhen sniffed his tears away and looked back at the armour, He took his shirt off, which freaked Sansa out, as she squealed. "Not in front of me!" And she ran out the door, slamming it behind her.

Torrhen chuckled as he started stripping down and putting the armour on, specially fitted for his youthful body perfectly. Once he had tightened his new sword belt on properly, he turned to look at his reflection in the window. Nodding at the now familiar sight of his younger body mixed with the old look of his black armour, he closed his chest and prepared to leave Winterfell.

* * *

**So Torrhen is off southwards to the Riverlands! I'm not going to go into detail about the actual journey, so expect a small time jump similar to the one in this chapter. It'll only be a week or so however due to their hard ride. He also has his banner and gear back.**

**Ned will also be up to a lot for the foreseeable future, while Robb will also grow in importance in the coming chapters. This is properly a Stark story, not just a Torrhen story.**

**Thank you again for all of your reviews, favourites and follows. They really do mean a lot and encourage me to write!**

**Reviews:**

**DarylDixon'sLover: Not a chance! As you remember from Black Wolf Rises Torrhen has a wonderful relationship with his mother, plus she's one of my favourite characters. I'm not promising she'll survive but I won't kill her horribly for the sake of a few people who can't understand why she can't stand Jon.**

**Maleivius: Yeah Ned is worried. His death directly led to a set of actions that almost destroyed the North, so he's adamant now that he believes that it won't happen again.**

**Dipsyy: I find that unless multiple people explain the whole time travel thing at once then the everybody believing straight away trope to just be unrealistic. Now though, Ned is a lot less prone to tales, so if he's saying it happened, then the North will follow.**

**ZabuzasGirl: No, because I really like her.**

**ABEBOABDU: Keep reading and find out!**

**C.E.W: And with Howland Reed there now, Ned has a friend to vent to as well as plan with.**

**celine: Jon will have a major role to play. As for Cat, she was actually a very good advisor, and things fell apart for Robb after he stopped trusting her.**

**Patriot-112: Jon won't find out for almost 20 chapters yet. As for Joffrey/Ramsay, they won't work together that I can promise you, and Torrhen certainly hasn't forgotten about them…**

**Guest (follow BWReborn): I think you should be able to, especially once we get past all this remembering stuff. Rises is mostly canon compliant, with just a few twists here and there. If I had to suggest chapters to read of Rises, then it would likely be Seasons 6, 7 and 8 (Chapter 51-73). That describes Torrhen in his Kingship and reuniting with his family, winning back the North, Jon finding out his parentage, working with Daenerys and then the Long Night. If you have any questions though, I would recommend perhaps creating an account and PMing me, and I will go through all the major events that happened in Rises that may confuse you here.**

**TheTrickster96: First of all, kudos to you for supporting Palace and not one of the 'Top 6' teams that everybody seems to support nowadays. On to the actual review however, thank you for the kind words about Rises. Torrhen is the only one of my OC's that I've never truly been able to cast as I've always just imagined myself in the role. Durran is probably Henry Cavill towards the end of the story, Tyland to me looks like a grim Owen Wilson, and Lucerys to me is my personal display picture, so I'd say to just think of him as the display picture for the story. **


	5. The Green Man

**Wow… Three chapters in one (long) weekend! I've had an excellent few days of writing and I want to get as much of this story out there as I can because I really love some of my plans for the latter stages. The beginning is mostly setting stuff up for later as Ned and co prepare both Winterfell and the North for what's coming, but the action will come thick and fast once the South starts getting involved and I'm super excited for that.**

**I go on holiday for a week soon, so hopefully I'll have two chapters out before then, but unless motivation completely leaves me this week, I'll definitely have one more for August.**

**I've taken some creative liberties with the Isle of Faces as of course nobody knows what it looks like. Same with the Green Men, nobody really knows what they are and as this is a more magical story, I've added a magical explanation.**

**I own nothing but Torrhen. Everything else is the belonging of George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

**298 AC**

The Gods eye was huge. The week of hard riding had meant that once Torrhen and his small party arrived at the shore of the great lake they had camped beside it to rest, and all Torrhen could do that night was stand with his bare feet in the water's edge to try and see the mysterious isle of the Green Men. He couldn't see a damn thing.

The next morning at dawn he set out alone in a single rowboat, keeping a direct course for the centre of the lake. He was rowing for at least a couple of hours when a shape of dark red came into view, and as Torrhen got closer, he could tell that the red was the Weirwood leaves.

He soon got to the Isle and left the boat on the narrow strip of land between the sea and the ground touching leaves. Pushing them aside and stepping through, he gasped at the beauty. At least a dozen Weirwood trees, all with differing faces were staring inwards, all looking at a single stump. Torrhen stared at each one of the faces and instantly felt chills. This was a sacred place no doubt, and he felt humbled to have been invited.

After looking at each of the faces, Torrhen looked in the centre of the Weirwood grove at the single stump. On it was a small bowl made also of Weirwood, that had a dozen Weirwood faces carved into the sides, the same faces that were on the trees looking in on him. The mixture inside the bowl didn't look too appetising, a thick white paste with green veins snaking out over its surface.

"No thanks." Torrhen grimaced, looking away from the paste. He wondered around the grove for a few moments before his belly started grumbling however, and soon gave in to his hunger. He picked up the bowl and sat upon the Weirwood stump, dipping his finger into the paste and sucking it clean. It was bitter, so bitter that Torrhen shuddered in horror. The winds rustled the leaves gently though, and Torrhen took this as a sign. He dipped his finger in again and continued, and the paste began to taste better. The more he ate, the more the taste changed, it went from honey, to fresh snow, to the peppered sausages that Gage the cook cooked, and finally with his last mouthful, he tasted Mira Forrester's lips.

"That's the paste of the Weirwood trees." A gruff voice sounded behind Torrhen. The Stark turned around, and he saw a sickly old man wearing thick plate armour, a crimson surcoat with a bright red three headed dragon in its centre. Torrhen also saw the frayed fastenings of a gold cloak on the man back, and thanks to all of his lessons in Targaryen history, he knew who he was talking to.

"This is impossible… you're dead." Torrhen whispered.

The body of Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince, King of the Stepstones and brother of Viserys I Targaryen, laughed. "You look, but you do not see. I am no mortal, Torrhen of House Stark. I take this form for your benefit. I can take another."

The man inside the armour turned to dust, and the armour crumbled to the floor. Torrhen gasped, standing up to inspect the area where the man had been. Another voice sounded behind him.

"I can take on this form, if it eases you more." It said. Torrhen turned again and saw the man from the Three Eyed Crow's vision. His grown-up son, Cregan.

"Cregan…" Torrhen whispered. A branch came down from one of the Weirwood trees surrounding them both and slapped Torrhen in the face.

"Open your eyes!" The man exclaimed. "I am no mortal."

"You are the Green Man." Torrhen told him, rubbing his pained cheek. "I thought you were meant to be green and horned."

The Green Man laughed. "Myths lead to exaggerations. No, I am whatever I am needed to be. Daemon Targaryen saw his ancestor the Conqueror, Addam Velaryon saw Jaehaerys the First. Your bannerman Howland Reed saw his own Father."

"And I see my son." Torrhen surmised. He sat back down on the stump and buried his head in his hands. "What do you want with me?"

The Green Man sat down beside him. "You're return has caused great imbalance in this reality. Already changes to the proper course have been made, and you are blissfully unaware of some of the damage you could cause."

"Saving my family and friends is damage?" Torrhen asked incredulously.

"Not if you understand what your actions can do to the greater scheme of things." The Green Man explained. "The Gods favour you, Torrhen Stark. I have been tasked with guiding you so that the world remains intact."

"And how are you going to do that exactly?" Torrhen asked.

The Green Man grinned. "Like this."

He gripped Torrhen's hand tightly, crushing the bones in the young Stark's hand. Torrhen tried to free himself, but within moments his eyes rolled back into his own head, and he felt his mind forced into the interconnected roots of the Weirwood Trees surrounding them.

* * *

Back in Winterfell, the atmosphere had been a strange one. Ned had gathered his children together the night that Torrhen left and together with Howland had explained what a Greenseer was, and why Torrhen had had to go. It was difficult looking at them after Torrhen had told him their fates in the other time, but he kept reminding himself that it hasn't happened yet, and looking at his family, Ned was determined to do a better job at protecting them this time.

After Howland and his family had left, Ned had shut himself up in the library with Septon Chayle researching everything he could about Northern Legends and the Long Night. So far, nothing new had popped out to them, but there were still hundreds of books for the Septon Librarian to go through.

A few days of research had been enough for Ned however. He wasn't as impatient as Robert was, but Ned had never been a studious child. Instead he sought out the person who had first taught him about the Long Night, Old Nan.

She soon came to his solar and sat down heavily, her old bones almost creaking as they moved. "Nan." He greeted.

"Little Eddard." She smiled softly. "I remember your birth, you were so calm your Mother thought you were ill, but no you were just watching."

Ned smiled sadly at the thought of his mother. Ben had never really forgiven himself for that, no matter how often all of them told him that he was a fool for thinking it. "I need you to tell me a story, like you used to." He told her.

"You're a bit old now, no?" Old Nan asked with a grin.

Ned chuckled. "Aye that I am, but I'd like you to do so all the same."

Old Nan settled into her chair. "Which story would you like? Macumber was always your favourite."

Sighing amusedly, Ned shook his head at that. "Not this time. Tell me all you know of the White Walkers."

Old Nan sat up straighter. "The White Walkers roamed through the woods of the North thousands of years ago, why would you need to hear of them milord?"

Ned rubbed his beard with his hand. "What if they weren't truly beaten? What if for thousands of years they've been sleeping, waiting for a time to strike?"

Old Nan looked haunted. "Then, milord, we best prepare for a winter that will last a generation. We must prepare for starvation, and snows more fierce and deep than even I've ever seen. For when the White Walkers roam the lands, they steal the sunlight so the crops fail to grow, they steal the warmth, so that even in castles Kings and Lords freeze just as easily as Hedge Knights in their bushes. And if by chance you don't freeze to death, then you'll come face to face with the White Walkers and the Night King himself, on their undead horses commanding all the dead that still hold form. They'll send their spiders, pale as milk and as big as hounds, and they'll march southwards until all the living have joined their ranks." Ned felt the hairs on his arms standing upright, and Old Nan's words terrified him. "The Last Hero stopped him before, supposedly on the land that Winterfell stands on today." She continued. "He joined forces with the Children of the Forest and forced them back to the Land of Always Winter and built a Wall to keep them away. But that was a time of magic, if what you say is true milord and they're back, then we best beat them where we stand."

* * *

Later on that evening Ned was in his solar still, going over potential locations of Dragonglass in the unlikely instance that Stannis outright refused him access to Dragonstone. Luwin had said that one of his colleagues believed Winterfell itself was heated by the same fires that were found in the Dragonmont on Dragonstone, but any attempt to try and find the source of the hot springs had proven useless. Skagos was another possibility, but the Skagosi hadn't been involved with the mainland since their failed rebellion 100 years earlier, and so Ned didn't particularly fancy risking sending an invasion force over there purely to look for obsidian.

The only other place that Ned could think of was the Fourteen Flames of Valyria, but that idea was also abandoned quickly. Sighing in defeat, Ned was glad of the distraction as the door opened to reveal his wife. He piled some papers up to hide some of the more intricate plans and greeted her. "My Lady."

"I'm scared, Ned." She admitted, quickly shutting the door behind her. "I should have gone with Torrhen."

Ned shook his head. "This is something he has to face alone, Cat." Ned insisted kindly. "He will be fine."

"He's seeing visions in his dreams of course he won't be." She exclaimed emotionally. "The last person I know of that had visions of the future was Daemon the Drunkard, and he drank himself to death because he couldn't handle it."

Ned quickly shook his head as he saw Cat start to tear up. Rising to his feet he made his way towards her and took her in his arms, holding her tightly to his chest. "Torrhen is a smart boy, he knows what he's doing Cat."

"He's a child. An 11-year-old child." Cat whimpered, melting into her husband's embrace.

Ned wanted to tell her that he wasn't, not really, but he couldn't. "He's a Stark of Winterfell and a Tully of Riverrun. He's with some of my finest men going to a safe space in your Father's lands. He will be fine."

Cat sniffed her tears away and nodded. "I just worry." She insisted. "All of this talk of the White Walkers that's buzzing around the castle, and now your gods are giving my boy visions… I'm second guessing everything."

Ned smiled at her sadly and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ears. "You are a fantastic mother and wife, My Lady. You have raised our children to be excellent people and will continue to do so for little Rickon and any others that we may have."

Cat nodded and leaned up to kiss her husband. He reciprocated the kiss, pressing his lips firmly on to hers. They pulled away an inch, and Cat said, mainly to reassure herself. "He did promise to stop into Riverrun when he was on his way back and send us a raven."

Ned smiled soothingly down at her. "He did, and meanwhile we have 5 other children that will be enough to keep us occupied until he gets back."

Cat nodded. "I'm being foolish, aren't I?"

"Slightly, but no less than I must have seemed these last few weeks." Ned told her. "I promise, when Torrhen is back and I've spoken to him properly, you'll be among the first to know everything. But war is coming, Cat, and we must be there for the entire North, not just Winterfell."

He didn't mean to scare her, but the mention of war did nothing to soothe her. "Who are we warring with?"

Ned looked up at a map of Westeros that was hanging up on the wall beside them. "That's what worries me, Cat. I'm not too sure yet."

Looking up at him worriedly, Cat moved up to kiss him again quickly. "Can you forget war for one night?" She whispered. Ned smirked at her, nodding. He kissed her again, more forcefully, desperate to feel her close to him. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up, Cat wrapping her legs around his waist as he moved her over to the table. "In here?" She giggled as his lips briefly left hers. Ned didn't speak, he just growled in the affirmative before latching on to his wife again, losing himself in her embrace.

* * *

Robb and Theon regularly made their way into the Wintertown, where Theon's favourite haunt stood far enough away from the main castle to not cause Lord and Lady Stark offence. Robb joined him, not for the barely dressed women that roamed the upstairs and side buildings of the establishment, but for the bar, where he could chat to some of the smallfolk and let them get to know their future Lord while sharing an ale with them.

Theon had been quick to find his favourite, and he had Ros sprawled over his lap, fondling a breast in one hand as he held his tankard in the other. Robb meanwhile was nursing his drink.

"That looks painful." Ros cooed, stroking Theon's black eye.

"The other guy came off worse." Theon boasted, causing Robb to scoff.

"The other guy is my 11-year-old brother and he didn't have a scratch on him." The heir to Winterfell chuckled.

Theon gave him a dirty look. "I wasn't going to tell anybody that." He said through clenched teeth. Ros just laughed.

"You pay me enough to not care that you were beaten by a child." She said soothingly, stroking Theon's face to boost his ego once again.

"Yes well." Theon sniffed arrogantly. "When the child is as deranged and dangerous as the young Lord Torrhen, it's a wonder I didn't die."

"Oh give over." Robb rolled his eyes, getting frustrated. "He's not well."

"He's a freak." Theon countered. "He's going as mad as the Mad King, beating people for no reason and seeing visions in his sleep. If you ask me, your Lord Father should send him up to the Wall to take the black and to keep him out of sight."

Robb threw back his chair loudly as he stood up with force, the scraping of the legs on wooden floor so noisy that the entire inn grew silent. Aware of everybody staring at him, Robb lowered his voice to a deathly whisper, and growled at Theon. "Remember your place, Greyjoy. You may be my friend, but he is my brother. Have a care for how you speak about him in my presence." He didn't wait for a response, picking up his tankard and downing the ale, before walking to the bar and placing it down on the counter. He took out his money pouch and placed it by the owner. "Use whatever is in here, I'll pay for the peoples drinks until it runs out." He said quietly.

"Thank you, milord." The barkeep smiled widely. Robb just nodded and walked out into the night.

A light summer snow was settling in, but there was a chill in the air, and so Robb tightened his cloak and mounted his horse quickly, galloping up towards Winterfell as his rage calmed down.

His mind was all over the place when he arrived back inside the walls of Winterfell. Making his way over to the stables, he dismounted and handed the horses reigns to Hodor the stableboy.

"Thank you Hodor." Robb said honestly.

"Hodor." Was the only response.

Smiling at the friendly giant, Robb walked away aiming to get over to his chambers, but the sound of a sword swinging at a dummy caught his attention. He changed direction and walked towards the sound, fully expecting the sight of Jon Snow pounding away at the dummy.

"Mother again?" Robb asked.

Jon stopped mid swing and turned around. "Not tonight, I think she's with Father. I went to go and talk to him in his solar and Jory was outside the door urging me away."

Robb looked disgusted. "In his solar?" He feigned gagging in illness before laughing slightly. "Mayhaps we'll have a little brother or sister soon then.

Jon chuckled too, before sighing and placing his sword in the rack. "What are you doing back anyway? I thought you were out with Theon."

Robb shook his head. "I couldn't stay there, he was calling Torrhen names like freak and mad. If I had stayed, I'd have blackened his other eye."

"He deserves it." Jon muttered, and Robb chuckled again. "Torrhen will be fine, you know that right?"

Robb nodded. "I just wish I understood, I wish I could help him." He kicked out at a loose stone on the floor. "Green sight, I thought it was just a myth."

Jon shrugged. "It was apparently quite common in the Dawn age, if the records in the library are right."

Robb was surprised. "You've been in the library?"

Smirking with a guilty expression, Jon ran a hand through his hair. "Arya wanted to know why Torrhen couldn't help her anymore, and of course she roped me into helping her search. Septon Chayle has been glad of the help I think."

Robb sighed. "All of this research into old legends… why is Father so interested?"

Jon shrugged, as both boys looked up towards the main keep. "I'm not sure, but I'll bet it has something to do with why he shut himself up in his solar with Tor for so long."

* * *

Ned was feeling the effects of his passionate night in his study, as his back was aching from an uncomfortable sleeping position. Cat had left quickly after dawn so that she could get bathed and dressed before the majority of the castle knew she had spent the night in the solar, but Ned was more relaxed, moving all the parchment back on to the desk after it had been knocked off. He hadn't even bothered to put a shirt back on, standing there in only his trousers.

He moved back over to the map, focusing on the North and the lands controlled by the different regions. Torrhen's warnings about Roose Bolton and his bastard flashed in his mind, and he drew a line with his finger from the Dreadfort to Barrowton, and then to Highbrook Tower and the other lands that were controlled by House Ryswell. Those were three powerful houses joined together by Roose's trueborn son, while House Stark had marriage allies to the South, but none in the North. Sighing, he knew he had to break his initial idea of letting his children marry for love, and the Lord of Winterfell sat back down at his solar. Grabbing a fresh page of parchment, he began writing down all the families in the North and their military strength, before adding the names of the family members, working out where would be best to ally himself with in order to create a stronger and more united North.

* * *

**The results of Ned's brainstorming will be discovered in the next chapter… But of course, I'll welcome you all to have some guesses if you like. You may have remembered some people that I completely forgot about, but I doubt it! **

**I realise that my Green Man may be… unorthodox. But a magic entity makes more sense to me than a small group of whatever that have interbred for thousands upon thousands of years. **

**Robb is also there in the process of making some big realisations. Family over anything else. Family is probably the most important thing in this story, as House Stark do their very best to remain whole.**

**I hope you all enjoyed it. Please don't hesitate to let me know what you thought.**

**Reviews:**

**DarylDixon'sLover: She will do eventually.**

**Freakdogsflare: In about 2 chapters time…**

**C.E.W: He'll stop off in about 2 chapters time for a very important reason… And I agree with you about Cat.**

**Patriot-112: Jon will have a very different arc to the one he had in canon.**

**Guest (Skagos): While technically correct, the show never truly established Skagos as a legitimate Dragonglass source, and while I will borrow a fair amount from the books that the show didn't explain, with Skagos only falling under the banner of the North officially and instead keep to themselves, I won't be using them. In Black Wolf Rises as well Torrhen only used Dragonstone, so he likely hasn't even thought of Skagos or the other mountains. Also, Stannis is important for the plot once we make our way Southwards and a character that will be near him will be our eyes into his story, so for plot reasons Dragonstone is the only feasible source. You made a good point however, so I did include a line spawned from your review as to why Skagos is impossible.**

**Lightningscar: He's suspicious. Nobody but Ned knows all of Torrhen's past, and even though he knows Jojen has gifts he's a defensive person with a child's hormones, he just reacted to Jojen badly. The Last Hero prophecy is a widely spread one, and each religion has their own version. Considering Brandon the Builder was there during the Long Night of course the North would have their own version of the tale. Dark Sister was hinted at being in Howland's possession in Chapter 30 of Rises and confirmed in chapter 38. The story was that Bloodraven never took the sword North of the Wall when he went missing, and it made its way into Rhaegar's hands who left it in Lyanna's possession for her 'daughter' who of course turned out to be Jon. Torrhen spoke with him here and I hope you enjoyed it. **


	6. Alliances

**This is another chapter that's pretty much setting up future events, but I promise we're soon getting to some really interesting things, as well as the first character to be revealed as having their other memories!**

**I hope you all enjoy this one. I'll try and get another chapter out before my holiday, but we'll see.**

**I own nothing but Torrhen.**

* * *

Ned Stark was happier. He'd made his plans and felt like with the moves that he wanted to make the North would be strong enough for any enemy that tried to face them. He had even briefly entertained the idea of looking Southwards for matches, but the thought of certain houses betraying them in Torrhen's past life scared him more than he would ever admit.

He called for Catelyn first, as he wanted to discuss certain things with her before he told the children. She arrived not too long after, freshly bathed and dressed for the new day. "You've not even changed your shirt." She scolded fondly.

"I've been busy." Ned insisted.

Cat rolled her eyes but came and sat down at his desk with him. She stared over some of the papers and noticed the listings of Northern strength. "You weren't jesting when you spoke about war, were you?" She asked.

Ned shook his head. "Something is coming Cat… and I've done a poor job of preparing ourselves for the worst. Life is so quiet and peaceful in the North compared to the South, and I think we've grown used to the isolation that we underestimate the issues that can arise when we are not united."

"You're a good Lord." Cat insisted, laying her hand on his arm. "The people love you."

"And yet there are those that would turn on us if it meant they could fulfil their ambitions." Ned told her. "Which is why we need to start betrothing the children."

Cat sighed, knowing that it was the right move but not liking it. "We said that they could marry for love."

"And what have we done to push for them to fall in love?" Ned asked. "The closest we've come is Torrhen and the Forrester girl. Robb just follows Theon to the inns, and thankfully doesn't partake in some of Theon's more amorous adventures. Sansa is in love with stories of knights and songs and knows nothing of how dangerous and dark the world truly is. Arya… Arya will be a warrior whether we forbid it or not, she'll fall in love with a sword, not a boy. The others are too young yet, but the point remains."

Cat was surprised at the words coming from her husbands' mouth. "We've done our best to shelter them from the horrors that we faced when we were younger…" She tried to explain herself.

Ned smiled. "And we did, too well my love. But now it is time for House Stark to tie itself together with the entire North to ensure that we show our strength to whomever we may face."

Cat looked down at some of the papers that Ned had out. "And how will we do that?"

"To start with, we can ensure that whoever Robb chooses as his wife belongs to one of the strongest houses in the North." Ned began. "We also ensure that Domeric Bolton is firmly allied with ourselves so that a potential Bolton and Ryswell alliance cannot harm us, and finally by ensuring that we can build ourselves a navy with the finest ships in Westeros."

Cat shook her head. "No, Sansa cannot be wed to a Bolton Ned…" She began.

"Domeric is a good lad…" He began, but he was interrupted.

"She could be Queen if you just wrote to Robert." She insisted. "The Crown Prince is of an age…"

"Never!" Ned raised his voice angrily. He saw Cat's look of shock and softened. "Apologies my lady, but I cannot in good faith marry my child to one of the Queen's."

Cat was confused. "He is an excellent match. Many families would kill for the chance and yet you are the King's best friend. If you broached the subject…"

"But I will not." Ned said firmly.

"Why?"

"Because Joffrey is not Robert's son." Ned said quickly. The shock was evident on his wife's face. "Torrhen has seen it." He began to explain. "He's seen war, Cat. He's seen us at war with the Lannister's because they try to put Joffrey on the Throne. Why would I go to war with my Best Friend's son?"

Cat shook her head. "You wouldn't." She whispered.

"Robert was always obsessed with Lyanna." Ned began, even though it pained him to say it. "It seems that he hasn't gotten over that pain, and the Queen resents him for it. Torrhen has seen her cuckolding him."

"That's treasonous talk…" Cat whispered. "You would say such things because a child dreamed it?"

"I believe my son." Ned said firmly. "And unless he's proven wrong, I shall not entertain any matches with Cersei's bastards."

Cat sighed. "But the Dreadfort? Really? She's too sweet for such a place."

"She is a Stark of Winterfell." Ned told her. "And Winter is Coming."

* * *

Once he had gotten Cat on board with his planned alliances, Ned sent for his eldest son and heir. Robb arrived in Ned's solar tentatively, looking concerned when he saw both of his parents standing behind Ned's desk.

"If this is about last night…" He began.

"No, it isn't." Ned said quickly, knowing that he needed to talk to the inn keep to know what Robb was going on about. "Come in, close the door and sit down." Robb did as he was asked, still not sure as to what was going on. As his arse touched the chair, Ned leaned on the table with both hands and began explaining. "You are 14 now, and almost a man grown. You're doing well in all of your lessons and I'm constantly hearing excellent reports from both Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik." Robb looked pleased at the praise. "Now, you've still got much to learn, but I believe it's time you started taking a much more active role in helping me out as Lord of Winterfell, so that if anything happened to me you will be well prepared."

"Nothing will happen to you Father…" Robb began.

"Robb, wars can break out in almost an instant." Ned told him. "When we rebelled against the Mad King, it was a matter of a month between your Aunt Lyanna disappearing to me inheriting Winterfell and sailing away from the Vale to call the banners. A lot can change quickly."

"Is this something to do with Torrhen going to the Isle of Faces?" Robb asked.

Cat nodded. Ned had told her just enough about his dreams to know that war was inevitable, and she needed to show Robb that she was in full agreement with Ned. "He's… seen things in his dreams. Things that mean a war is likely."

"War?" Robb balked.

"Which is why we need you to be ready, do you understand?" Ned asked gently. Robb nodded. "Good lad. Now we know it might not be for a long time, but with your training being stepped up there's only one other thing that we would ask of you to aid us for the future."

"What can I do?" Robb asked, desperate to help out.

Ned smiled at his son almost apologetically, he was still so young, but this had to happen. He pointed to the map of Winterfell that he had carefully laid out on the table. "The North isn't as strongly united behind us as I'd like. Yes, the current Lords and Ladies are loyal, but what happens if there's a decision I make that doesn't sit right with them? Or what if I die and they do not quite trust you enough yet?" Ned pointed to the Dreadfort. "House Bolton have long been rivals of ours, and Roose Bolton is a cunning man. His son Domeric by his marriage to Bethany Ryswell means that he's linked strongly with the Barrowlands and the Rills."

"That's a lot of men." Robb noted.

"It is." Ned nodded. "Now while my marriage means strong links with the Riverlands, we feel that it's wiser for us to look in the North for your own brides. We need strong alliances at home as well as in the South, and a Northern bride is essential for you."

Robb finally realised what this was. "You've chosen me a bride." It wasn't a question.

"Not yet." Cat insisted. "We once told you that we would allow you to choose your bride for love, and while circumstances have forced our hand, we would still allow you to choose your bride."

Ned pointed firstly to the Neck on the map. "Meera Reed is of an age with you and is the daughter of a dear and loyal man. She would make a fine bride for you." He then pointed eastwards slightly. "Wylla Manderly is Lord Wyman's second granddaughter and a couple of years your junior." He then raised his fingers towards Karhold. "Alys Karstark is very young admittedly, but once she flowers, she would bring House Karstark even closer to us, as well as a large number of men."

Robb had instantly dismissed the latter. "Isn't Alys Karstark but a babe?" He asked.

Ned shook his head. "She's of an age with Bran."

"Not her then." Robb said quickly. "I'm sure she'd make a fine match for Bran if Lord Karstark would accept a third son, but if alliances are needed quickly then she's far too young."

Ned was proud of his son for being so pragmatic about this all. "Very well."

Robb thought for a moment, the cogs in his mind spinning at speed. "How many men does House Manderly have?"

"They're the third strongest house in the North." Ned explained. "As well as being our only port."

"Then that makes the most sense." Robb surmised. "But…" He trailed off.

"Go on." Cat told him kindly.

"Can I meet her first?" Robb asked. "If I'm to spend my life with this girl, I should meet her before I fully commit."

Ned nodded. "A wise choice." He admitted. "Your mother and I weren't granted that luxury, but we have some time, I'll arrange for Lady Wylla to come to Winterfell soon."

Robb smiled. "Thank you, Father."

"Are you sure this is the girl you want?" Cat asked.

Robb nodded. "It makes the most strategic sense, House Manderly are a powerful house and they border Bolton lands as well, if we are worried about House Bolton then House Manderly will be a key ally."

Ned smiled. "Hopefully that won't be an issue. Thank you, Robb. You've made an extremely wise choice."

Cat smiled too, walking over to hug her son. "Now go on, go and enjoy your day. But can you find Sansa and ask her to come here?"

Robb nodded, and quickly left the room. Ned and Cat quietly talked among themselves for 10 minutes or so, when a tentative knock on the door came. In walked Sansa, as beautiful as ever. "Mother, Father." She greeted. "Robb said I needed to speak with you?"

"Yes, please, come and sit down." Ned gestured to the chair Robb had sat in. She did as she was asked. "You're 11 now, meaning that you'll be flowering soon."

Sansa looked alarmedly up at Cat, who just nodded encouragingly. "I… I guess."

"Do you know what will happen then?" Ned asked.

Sansa nodded, and gulped. "I'll be expected to marry to benefit our house and have children to further on my husband's line."

Ned hated the thought of his little girl marrying, but she was right, and it was needed to help them in the future. "We believe that it is time you were betrothed, Sansa." He said softly. "And we wanted to tell you before we made the match, to explain it all."

Sansa had her eyes open wide in a quick bout of shock but calmed down quickly. "Who will I wed?" She asked.

Ned sighed. "In your lessons, you've learned that House Bolton and ourselves have had a broken relationship… For centuries they've coveted Winterfell and dominion over the North and for years our Houses have insulted and warred with each other. I would see that stop."

"House… house Bolton?" Sansa asked, slightly scared.

"Domeric." Ned affirmed. He got out a stack of letters. "I know what I'm asking of you, and I'm sorry Sansa, but I would never betroth you to a man I felt unworthy of you." He thought to himself about Torrhen's last timeline and shuddered. "I've been thinking about this for a while and have written to Lord Redfort who has Domeric as a squire. Here are the letters that Lord Redfort and other Vale Lords have sent me about Lord Bolton's heir." He passed the letters over. "Take your time, read the letters and learn about the man. If you agree with me that he will be a good husband for you, then I will write to Lord Bolton myself and approach the subject of a betrothal."

Sansa nodded her understanding and daintily opened the first letter from Lord Redfort. Ned watched her for what seemed like an age as she read letter after letter, happy that she was smiling at certain parts. Once she had finished the last letter from Lady Waynwood, she looked up at him. "He seems like he could be a perfect knight one day!" She exclaimed.

"He does." Ned smiled at her enthusiasm. "He is good with a lance, and even better with a harp. You can go riding, you can spend time together singing. He is a credit to House Bolton by all accounts."

Cat walked over to her and knelt before her daughter. "You can say no." She said to Sansa. "The Dreadfort isn't the castles you've dreamt of."

Sansa smiled. "The castle's I dream of aren't real though Mother, however much I want them to be." She said, with strange maturity. "But I can make even the Dreadfort nice." She added with a great smile.

"So, you're happy for me to make the match? Would you like to meet him beforehand?" Ned asked.

Sansa nodded. "Yes please, Father."

Ned grinned at his daughter. "Very well. I'll arrange it." He walked over to her and kissed Sansa on the forehead. Sansa smiled widely at that.

"What about Torrhen?" Sansa asked. "Is he to marry?"

Ned's face was impassive. "One day, but Torrhen is only a second born son Sansa, you are my first daughter. You will be the lady of a great Northern castle if Roose Bolton agrees, while Torrhen will have a holdfast, or Moat Cailin at best. It will take more time to arrange a suitable match for him."

Sansa nodded her understanding, and Cat hugged her one more time. "Run along now, and don't mention this to anybody, not until the betrothal has been arranged."

"Of course, Mother." Sansa told her before standing up, straightening her skirts and leaving the room.

Cat breathed a sigh of relief after the door had closed. "She took the thought of being wed to a Bolton better than I would have." She admitted. "She made a good point though, what about Torrhen? Or the others for that matter."

Ned sighed. "Arya would rather run away than be betrothed right now, and as much as I'd like her to start acting like a Lady, my Father tried to force Lyanna to marry and look what happened to her…" He trailed off before he said too much. "Bran I want to keep available for now, just in case."

"Just in case of what?" Cat asked.

"He's only 8, and we may still need a link with the South." Ned told her. "Rickon… I'm thinking of perhaps offering him to wed Alys Karstark… she's slightly older than he is, but it's worth thinking about."

"He's a baby Ned…" Cat said, slightly horrified at the thought of her youngest marrying.

"But he won't be forever, and depending on Bran, I may need him to be a Lord yet, and a match with Karhold will be helpful there." Ned told her.

"And what about Torrhen?" Cat asked. Ned fell deathly silent. He had a plan for his second son, but he knew that Cat would never accept it unless she knew the truth.

"Torrhen… He will be betrothed." He said quietly.

"To whom?" Cat asked. "Meera Reed I presume…"

Ned shook his head. "To the girl that he's been writing."

Cat thought he was joking and laughed for a moment before her face fell at her husband's serious look. "You can't be serious… Ned… House Forrester?"

"They are extremely loyal."

"They barely raise 500 men according to your notes there." She pointed at the table. "Tell me, where is the benefit?"

"Their ironwood." Ned said firmly. "I need their ironwood to build ships. Together, Torrhen's marriage and Robb's marriage will allow us to build a fleet once more."

"No." Cat shook her head. "There must be more important matches that we can make. Prince Doran's daughter in Dorne, a Blackwood girl…"

"Torrhen will only wed Mira Forrester." Ned sighed. "He'll refuse any others."

"And why should we let him have his way?" Cat asked. "We're forcing marriages on our other children…"

"Because he's lost too much already." Ned said, raising his voice. He saw Cat's confused look and knew he was past the point of no return. "I didn't want to tell you this until Torrhen was back and we understood everything, but I must tell you now it seems. Torrhen isn't a Greenseer, not really."

Cat processed that information. "Then why." She said sternly. "Have you sent my son hundreds of miles to the South to the Isle of Faces."

"Because he's been blessed by the Old Gods, Cat." Ned said softly. And he began to explain everything. He told her about what he saw in the Godswood and how he had made himself believed he was seeing things, he told her about Torrhen's life, and about his love for Mira Forrester, only to lose her and all of his family. Finally, he told her about Torrhen being forced to deal with Cat's death as well as winning back Winterfell, only to die at the hands of a monster. He left out all the bits that were relevant to Jon, not wanting to have that discussion yet. By the time that Ned had finished darkness had fallen, and Cat had tear stains on her cheeks.

"He died?" She croaked.

"He died defending the living." Ned nodded. "And because of the sacrifices made on the Weirwood roots, he's been granted a second chance. So it's unfair of me to force him to wed another when Mira Forrester also brings us something we need to defend the North from those that would do us harm."

Cat nodded, not trusting herself to speak until she'd drunk some water. Finally, after a few moments, she said. "That poor boy…"

Ned nodded. "It won't happen again, Cat. I swear it on the Old Gods and the New. I'm inviting all the Lords of the North to Winterfell soon, and together we will ensure that the North remains strong no matter what we face, whether it be Lannisters or the dead, we will be ready."

* * *

Meanwhile in the Riverlands, Torrhen gasped as his mind was flung back into his own body. He sat upright, panting to try and catch his breath. What he had seen… He couldn't describe it.

"So now you know." The Green Man said, sat down on the Weirwood stump lazily eating an apple.

Torrhen nodded. "Now I know."

"This world was created for you." The Green Man explained. "You have the power to save it for the living. Many things will be changed from your first reality, but maybe that's for the better."

Torrhen nodded. "Nothing could be worse than that was." He muttered grimly.

The Green Man threw the core onto the ground and stood up, helping Torrhen to his feet. "It's been about a day and a half since you arrived here…"

"No chance." Torrhen laughed. "I was in there for…"

"A day and a half." The Green Man insisted. "Time is easy, you have plenty of it. But before you go and live your new life, we have gifts for you."

Torrhen was intrigued, the Green Man turned back to the stump and dropped to his knees to say a quick prayer, before pawing away at the moss by the stump. When he stood back up, Torrhen took a step back and gasped. "Impossible…"

He had two sheathed swords. Two swords that shouldn't exist. "Winter's Bite." He said, giving Torrhen's old Valyrian Steel blade to the Stark. "And Riversteel."

"How is this possible?" Torrhen asked, admiring the blade as he unsheathed it.

The Green Man shrugged. "The Gods are omnipotent. They can do what they want. They've decided to aid you with extra dragon steel. The blades in Valyria are still there, so if you get a chance…"

"I can get them." Torrhen nodded his understanding. "Thank you."

The Green Man nodded. "Now go." He insisted. "Leave this place, Torrhen Stark. You will never return."

Torrhen nodded and bowed his head respectfully. He took Riversteel in his other hand and left the sanctity of the Weirwood grove. Resting a moment in his boat, he took one last look at the red leaves of the Weirwood trees before smirking and pushing away from the shore.

* * *

**So, Cat knows about Torrhen's secret and about Cersei's bastards… The revelations will keep coming for her next chapter as well.**

**Part of Ned's planning is also revealed by the alliances he's trying to set up. More to come on them later…**

**No, I'm not going to reveal exactly what the Green Man showed Torrhen. All of the other characters have remained quiet on their experiences there and Torrhen will be no different. It has changed his perspective on this new world though and given him a drive to beat back the Night King.**

**I hope you all enjoyed it, and until next time!**

**Reviews:**

**DarylDixon'sLover: Next chapter.**

**Bad Ass Female Fighter: Yes, Domeric isn't too far away from being properly introduced rather than just mentioned.**

**Freakdogsflare: That was the plan yes, Ned knows that he needs to keep Domeric especially on side due to his links with other powerful Northern houses, so marrying him to Ned's oldest daughter is a brilliant power play.**

**Guest (Broodborn): I don't know what you mean, sorry.**

**Rnijj: Lots will change, we're barely scratching the surface at the moment! Thank you so much for the kind words.**

**Patriot-112: A migraine would probably be more welcomed by him…**

**Celine: I always appreciate every review! Both North of the Wall and the South will be a part of this story.**

**Seraph: I don't think Ned wants to let his daughters go anywhere after what he's heard, plus Sansa will never be a warrior. So far Roose and Ramsay haven't done anything worth executing. So far…**

**xXLannisterCrusher64xX: Torrhen is just a Stark, so has the warging ability his siblings did, but his time as King in the North and everything that he went through in his previous life has given him a focus. He's not the Three Eyed Raven, he's just been marked as special via the Old Gods and gets to live in a reality designed for him.**

**C.E.W: In all of my stories I follow the book timeline, so with the TV show adding a few years in order to age up certain characters, 300 AC is always Season One for me. It just makes things easier for myself.**

**Mac55: Thanks!**


	7. The Hidden Dragon

**Wow… this one was quickly written! It's a lot of history involved which is some of my favourite parts to write, so that's probably why it was done so quickly.**

**There's a flashback to the Tower of Joy in this chapter, but of course the show and the book differ in the number of Kingsguard, although the show originally stated in Season 4 Episode 1 that three men died that day. For that reason, I'm adding a section in between what happened in the two seasons in Season 6. **

**Before anyone comments, I know that Ser Gerold was apparently the second man in the show, but that is just showrunner negligence to me. Ser Gerold Hightower was an old man, not a young one.**

**I've also, for a bit of fun, added a Westeros version of Rock Paper Scissors.**

**I hope you all enjoy this. I own nothing but Torrhen.**

* * *

Riverrun was an imposing castle even from the hill leading down towards it. Torrhen and his band of three Stark men stopped briefly as the castle came into view to take in the sight, and Torrhen turned to the guards. "Raise the banners, let's announce our arrival." He stated. Two of the men did so, raising the grey Direwolf of House Stark as well as the black Direwolf of Torrhen's own, and the four men rode down towards the castle, and luckily the gates were already open. Ser Brynden Tully was there to greet him.

He dismounted and handed his horse over to the stable hands before making his way over to his great uncle. "Ser Brynden." He greeted formally.

"Torrhen, is that right?" Ser Brynden asked.

Torrhen nodded. "I was in the area and thought I'd visit, I have a gift for my Grandfather also."

Ser Brynden raised an eyebrow. "Very well, follow me." The Blackfish led the small party of Northerners into the castle, winding through corridors and passageways until they came to the Riverrun main hall.

Torrhen looked around, and flashes of men that weren't there appeared, and voices shouted in his head. '_The King in the North!_'. Looking forwards, he saw his Grandfather in the Lord's chair and his uncle Edmure stood beside him.

He made his guards wait by the door, taking the covered up Riversteel in his own hands so he could go and greet his Mother's family by himself. "Grandfather." He bowed his head in respect. "Uncle Edmure."

"Your Mother told me to expect you in our halls." Hoster Tully said, eyeing the boy up suspiciously. "Why haven't I met you before now?"

Torrhen smiled subtly. "The North is vast, Grandfather, and much needs to be overseen. I've never been old enough to go on a journey myself until circumstances forced my hands. But I'm here now, and with a gift."

Hoster nodded. "Yes, the Isle of Faces came calling. A strange place, one I've never been to nor seen the need to go to. Did you find what you were looking for?"

"I found something." Torrhen said cryptically. "Only time will tell if it is useful."

"Hmmph." Hoster grunted amusedly. "Very well, you have a gift?" He nodded to the wrappings. "We have plenty of swords inside Riverrun."

"You may do." Torrhen smirked knowingly. "But there were two things that I found at the Gods Eye. My blood is undeniably as Tully as it is Stark, as with it, the Green Men managed to grant me two swords. One I've kept, but the other…" He trailed off, unwrapping the sword from the cloth holding it. He held the sword out in both hands towards the aging Lord.

The pommel was far more intricate than it had been in Torrhen's past life. While still silver, the cross guard was a curved, scaled trout as per the Tully sigil, and the pommel was a blue sapphire. Hoster didn't look overly impressed until Torrhen unsheathed the blade by about an inch, and the crimson and navy pattern of the Valyrian Steel showed.

"Is that what I think it is?" Edmure asked, his eyes widened in awe.

"Valyrian Steel." Hoster whispered.

Torrhen nodded. "Two blades of Valyrian Steel, one in the colours of my Father's house, one in the colours of my Mother's. It seems right that Riversteel should belong to Lord Tully, to be passed down through the generations."

"My boy… this is…" Hoster Tully was lost for words. He leaned over the side of his chair to cough briefly, before hoisting himself up slowly, his old bones taking their toll. He walked down the few steps needed to take the sword in his hands. "What did this cost you?"

Torrhen shrugged. "My sleep." He told them, using the story of his Greenseer abilities. "I'm what they call a Greenseer, and it was my dreams that led me to the Isle of Faces."

"What did you see?" Edmure asked, enthralled by Torrhen's story.

Torrhen sighed. "War." He told them dourly. "War is coming."

Hoster grimaced. "You're a boy." He whispered to himself. "Who do we fight?"

Torrhen lowered his head. "I'm not sure Grandfather… I couldn't see clearly. But Father is preparing the North and is making the eldest of us betrothals as we speak." He looked up to Edmure. "Perhaps, for House Tully's future, you should too."

Edmure looked flabbergasted. "I… No, I'm not ready to marry." He argued.

"You'll do as you are told boy." Hoster said firmly. "As your sisters did before you."

"Uncle Brynden…"

"Don't drag me into this." The Blackfish spoke calmly, but his words were like ice.

"Your Uncle Blackfish is not the future Lord of Riverrun. You are." Hoster nodded, coughing once more. "Perhaps I've been too lax with your lessons, maybe it is time to see you wed and father some children."

"Father…" Edmure pleaded.

"You are nearing 30 year of age." Hoster told him sternly. "You've been left to whore for far too long. Yes, it is time I took a more active role in your life seeing as though you cannot be trusted yourself."

Torrhen looked at Edmure apologetically. "I won't marry a Frey." Edmure said stubbornly.

"Ha!" Hoster laughed. "The Late Lord Walder will never get his grubby paws on Riverrun, don't you worry about that. No, there are plenty of maidens from more loyal vassals. Brynden, have Vyman write to all of my vassals. Tell them to prepare a maiden of their House to arrive at Riverrun. We shall re-enact the Maiden's Day Cattle Show!" Hoster laughed at the thought. Torrhen grinned at his Grandfather's excitement. "Torrhen my boy, I hope you will join me for supper this evening." Hoster told him.

"I'd be delighted to, Grandfather." Torrhen bowed his head again. "Although, if it is possible, I think I need a bath first."

Hoster nodded. "Of course, Edmure will show you to your chambers. You can have your Mother's old ones if you like."

Torrhen smiled his gratitude and followed a forlorn Edmure out of the room, as the sound of Hoster arranging his cattle show with his brother filled the Great Hall.

* * *

Jon Snow found himself on his back in the dirt once again as Robb bested him with the sword. Groaning, he grabbed Robb's outstretched hand and hoisted himself back up. "Ouch." He complained.

"You left your foot too outstretched Jon." Ser Rodrik instructed. "But that was a fine bout, well done you two. That will do for today."

Thanking Ser Rodrik and going to put away their training swords and armour, Jon said to his brother. "You were far better today then I've seen you before."

Robb smirked, before his face fell impassive again. "I've just got a lot to live up to. Father is trusting me more now that I'm older, he's said that my lessons with him will increase."

Jon grinned. "That's wonderful."

Robb nodded. "And I'm to be betrothed."

That stopped Jon in his tracks. "So soon? I thought that Father was waiting."

The heir to Winterfell shrugged. "Something Torrhen's seen in his dreams has him spooked Jon, he's tying up alliances where he can. Torrhen and Sansa are to be betrothed too I think."

Surprised, Jon ran his hand through his hair. "Who's unlucky enough to be forced to marry you?" He joked.

Robb chuckled, but shoulder barged his brother. "Wylla Manderly I believe, Lord Wyman's youngest granddaughter."

Jon racked his brain. "I don't think I know her."

"You will soon enough, she'll come to Winterfell before it's all announced." Robb admitted. "Torrhen will marry that Forrester girl that he followed around on his tenth nameday."

Jon grinned. "He wouldn't leave the poor girl alone." He reminisced. "And Sansa?"

Robb shrugged. "I'm not sure, I've not been told."

"Wow." Jon said. "Everything is changing."

Agreeing, Robb grinned. "We'll have to marry you off next."

Jon shook his head fiercely. "Nobody would want to marry me, I'm a bastard."

"You're a Stark." Robb said firmly. "You're my brother."

"Not in the eyes of the law." Jon sighed. "No, I doubt I'll marry, nor will I have children. The Night's Watch would be fine for someone like me."

Robb shook his head, stopping them both from walking. "No, you will always have a place at Winterfell." He said firmly.

"Your mother…" Jon began.

Robb interrupted him. "Is Father's wife, and my Mother aye, but she is not the Lord of Winterfell. It is not up to her who I have giving me counsel."

"You don't want me, Robb." Jon sighed. "You have Torrhen, and Theon."

"Neither of whom I trust as much." Robb admitted. "Torrhen Stark, the King who Knelt, he kept is bastard brother as an advisor and I shall do the same."

He placed his arm around Jon's shoulders as they entered the armoury to place their weapons back. Once they had finished, Ser Rodrik met them at the entrance. "Can one of you run up to your Father's solar and get him please, I sent your Lady Mother up Lord Robb, but they've not returned."

Ser Rodrik quickly fled then, and so Robb turned to Jon, and held his arm out in a fist. Jon chuckled, shaking his head.

"You never win this." Jon laughed.

"Worth a go." Robb grinned.

They pounded their fists into their palms three times, crying out. "Rock, parchment, blade." Robb won.

"No!" Jon cried.

"You lose, you go." Robb said cheerfully. "I hope they're not at it again."

Jon shivered, and shoved Robb gently in the shoulder before making his way back into the castle.

* * *

"_I wish you good fortune in the wars to come._" Arthur Dayne had said, eyeing up all the men that Ned had rallied beside him as the famous knight put on his helm. "_And now it begins._"

Ned still heard every cry, every scream from his friends that had died that day. He still regretted the manner of how Arthur Dayne had dropped to his knees and the way that Ned had had to execute the knight with his own sword. He still regretted walking into the tower and meeting the Lord Commander, Ser Gerold Hightower, the old man wheezing from illness that had explained everything and begged Ned to kill him. Ned had almost refused, but the old man swung his blade at the Stark and that had been that.

It had been Ser Gerold that had shown the Valyrian Steel sword Dark Sister to Ned and explained the marriage, and by the time the knight had died and Ned reunited with Lyanna, he was pretty numb.

Every time he saw the sword now that it was in his possession, he thought about holding Jon for the first time. "_Promise me Ned._"

The door to his solar opened as he held Dark Sister in his hands, and Cat was in the doorway. Surprised, he quickly placed the blade down behind his desk, and his wife looked at him suspiciously. "There's been a deserter…" she trailed off. "What was that sword? It's more detailed than any I've seen you wield."

Ned sighed. "It's not mine."

"Was that a ruby in the guard?" Cat asked. "Since when have we had rubies in Winterfell?" She moved around to take the sword, and while Ned half heartedly went to stop her, she picked it up and studied the handle.

"Since Howland was here." He said, not wanting to lie to his wife. "He brought the sword."

Cat was confused. "Since when has the Neck had such fine gems?"

Ned shook his head. "Not now, Cat, please…"

Now Cat was even more concerned. She unsheathed the blade about an inch and even though the Tully was somebody as inexperienced with steel, she recognised the Valyrian Steel. "Ned… where did you get this?"

"From Dorne." Ned said quickly. "The day Lyanna died."

Cat fell silent, knowing how painful the memory was. "What is it?" She whispered.

"Dark Sister." He sighed, his head falling into his hands as he massaged his temples. "The sword of House Targaryen."

Cat's eyes widened in horror. She sheathed the sword. "Explain." She whispered.

Ned opened his mouth, but there was a knock on the door. "What is it?" He called out. The door opened to reveal Jon.

"Apologies Father, but Ser Rodrik asked me to come and get you, it's the deserter…" Jon said.

"Lord Stark will be down in a moment." Cat replied snappily.

Jon looked down at his feet. "Ser Rodrik was insistent that I come and get you now…"

"Get out!" Cat snapped, turning to the door and almost pushing Jon out of it, slamming it shut. That raised Ned's ire.

"Catelyn." He said icily. "You will not treat the boy like that."

Cat was shocked at his tone but gulped and nodded. "The sword. A Targaryen sword. If Robert finds out…"

"Robert will never know." Ned said coldly. "I've kept this secret from him for 14 years, and I will continue to keep it from him for as long as I live."

Cat cowed in his anger. "Apologies, Lord Husband." She curtseyed.

Ned sighed. "I won't fight with you My Lady, but I cannot tell you about the sword now. Not with so many ears and with such little time. Meet me after dark in the crypts, by my sister's statue." He audibly sighed then. "I'll tell you everything."

* * *

The deserter was beheaded swiftly, and Ned had returned to Winterfell quickly. He rushed up to his solar to grab Dark Sister and then spent the rest of the day in the crypts, racking his brain at what to say to Cat.

He must have been in there for hours, as the crypt doors creaked open and he heard the footsteps of his wife on the cold, dark stone. They grew louder, before stopping beside him, and Ned heard her breathing heavily.

"I found out where she was in King's Landing." Ned began, looking up at the stone face that the sculptor had thought was his sister. "Ethan Glover was the only one of Brandon's party to survive the Mad King and he had been locked away in the Black Cells for the entirety of the war. He told me it all. He told me that Lyanna had met up with Rhaegar as she made her way to Riverrun for your wedding. They had bonded at the tourney, and Lyanna was unhappy with her betrothal so she ran away with him."

"I thought she was kidnapped." Cat said quietly, uneasy about being in the crypts.

Ned sighed. "Robert… He couldn't believe that Lyanna was repulsed by his nature, he didn't know her, he just knew my words of her. He made that claim as it was the only one that made sense to him, and of course Brandon was hot headed, and so he rushed down to defend Lyanna's honour. You know what happened afterwards."

Cat nodded. "Your Father died in a trial by combat against Aerys' wildfire, and Brandon died trying to save him."

"And we went to war." Ned said, hearing the fighting on the trident in his mind. "We took King's Landing and I released Ethan. He told me the truth, that Lyanna had planned to run away with Rhaegar, that Brandon thought that he had deflowered her and stolen her honour, and that Rhaegar had come to see him after Brandon and Father were dead."

That surprised Cat. "He was in King's Landing all that time?"

Ned nodded. "He and Elia had agreed the whole thing. She couldn't have any more children, and he needed one more for some prophecy." He shrugged. "I don't know what it was, but he explained to Ethan that he was taking Lyanna away, but if the war was to end badly for his family, that Lyanna would be safe in the Red Mountains of Dorne. I went there straight after Storm's End."

"Was she there?" Cat asked.

Ned nodded. "We arrived at the tower as seven. Myself, Howland Reed, Ethan Glover, Martyn Cassel, Willam Dustin, Theo Wull and Ser Mark Ryswell. Outside was Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Oswell Whent of the Kingsguard."

"Why were they there?" Cat asked.

"To protect Lyanna." Ned answered honestly. "I asked them where they had been in the war, and they just said where Rhaegar wanted them to be. They wouldn't let us past and so we fought. Only Howland and I survived."

"Ned…" Cat whispered, placing a hand on his arm.

"I walked in as Howland began arranging the bodies." Ned remembered. He wasn't telling Cat the story now, he was reliving it all. "Ser Gerold Hightower was sat at a table with Dark Sister in his hands. He told me the rest, how Elia and Rhaegar had had their marriage annulled due to infertility, how Lyanna and Rhaegar married by the Blackwater Rush, how they had sent ravens that clearly didn't arrive, and so much death had been caused from that. He told me that Lyanna had been with child just as Rhaegar left, and how that the night before, she had given birth." Cat gasped at that news. "He begged me to kill him, as he was ill and refused to serve Robert Baratheon. I tried not to, but he swung at me, and so I ended his life as well. I walked up to the top of the tower and Lyanna was there, laying in a bed of blood."

"By the Seven…" Cat whispered.

Tears were rolling down the Stark Lord's face as he described it. "She looked so weak, so little. I rushed to her side and held her hand. I pleaded with the handmaiden to do something to help… but Lya told me no. All she wanted, was for me to promise her… promise her…" He couldn't go on. Cat turned him to face her and wrapped him in a hug as Ned Stark tried to stop himself from breaking down. Gathering himself after a few moments, he stepped back and looked Cat in her eyes. "She promised me to look after her son. Her living, trueborn son. She named him Aegon Targaryen and swore that Robert would kill the babe if he found out, which he would have."

Cat stepped back in horror as the realisation dawned on her. "No…"

"We'd already fought over Rhaegar's other children, I wasn't about to hand him my own blood, my own nephew." Ned continued.

"No." Cat stated firmly.

"So, I took him in my arms as she lay dying and promised her that I would protect the boy." Ned told his wife. "She died, and I met back up with Howland. He took the sword that proved the truth and swore to me to never take it out of the Neck again. I took the babe, renamed him Jon and took him as my own bastard."

"No!" Cat cried, tears falling from her own eyes now. "He's not… you told me…"

"I told you what I had to My Lady." Ned said, using her formal title. "We did not know one another, we did not trust one another. You had loved my brother and I had lost my entire family, I was not losing another one. I went back to Winterfell and told everybody that he was Jon Snow of my own blood."

Cat was crying, but they were angry tears. "And once I asked you to remove him? Once we confessed our love for one another? You didn't think to tell me then?"

Ned hung his head in shame. "The damage was done; the lie was too great. I had hoped the secret would die with me, but Howland brought back the sword, and Torrhen knew the secret when he was sent back to this time."

Cat took another step back, looking at Ned in sheer anger. "You made me think that boy was a threat to our own children, that he would usurp them and become Lord of Winterfell for all this time… but he's really the lawful King of Westeros?" Ned just nodded. "I… I don't know what to say. I'm furious, Ned." She seethed. "Not only that you lied. Your lies made me hate a baby! Made me wish him dead!"

She looked at him once more and shook her head, before turning on her heels and storming out of the crypts. Ned choked out a sob and held his hand out to meet Lyanna's statue's outstretched hand. "I did as you asked." He sobbed. "I'm sorry Lya."

* * *

**Ned still has severe PTSD over the whole promise, and I wanted to play into that here. Cat's reaction was fierce, but she'll come around. Just slowly.**

**Torrhen at Riverrun was fun too, this is 5 years before Hoster Tully dies of course, so he's stronger than the show timeline, but his health is catching up with him… Edmure will marry soon off page, but I just had to include one of my favourite parts of Fire and Blood, the Cattle Show of Aegon III.**

**As for Robb and Jon, of course Jon isn't going to the Wall! Robb is determined to keep the one person he knows he can rely on around, and of course Jon has a secret identity that he isn't even aware of… although he will be made aware eventually, but not for a while yet!**

**I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! This one came out quickly and I have part of tomorrow (Friday) to write some of the next one, and then I'm on my holidays!**

**Reviews:**

**DarylDixon'sLover: Jon didn't come into discussions because he was 'technically' still known as a bastard to everyone but Ned and Torrhen. As I keep saying, he's got a very important arc.**

**Rnij: Possibly, I'm not too sure yet. In my last story I killed her off so as to include my version of Quentyn as the 'last Martell' and obviously this story has started earlier, so I've got a bit of a decision to make there.**

**Guest (Sansa/Domeric): Yes, that's what's happening.**

**Hear My Fury: Thing is, Ned sort of has to go to King's Landing in order to prove that he's not going mad and that what he needs from them is legit. **

**Silver crow: Yeah, I get that, and it won't go under the radar for Torrhen, nor Robb when he finds everything out. Meera just doesn't offer enough politically for Ned, but he'd love to be able to marry his child to Howland's. It will certainly be a changing point for House Bolton… I think you misread, I'm not sharing what Torrhen saw.**

**Bad Ass Female Fighter: Ramsay will come into it in 5 or 6 chapters time, so I'll leave that point by just saying, spoilers! Same again with Jon's plot.**

**Masso 2010: It might be interesting but Torrhen died thinking of Mira, after she died he couldn't get over her and as soon as he realised she was alive here he wrote to her, he's too deep now to care for anybody else. I really like your idea about the Weirwood tree showing the final battle though, but I'm not sure if I can work it in. I'll give it a think when I come to writing the gathering.**

**C.E.W: No member of House Tully will remember! And for people to remember, death must pay for life. If people have been paying attention I've already mentioned one of the deaths, so one of their family members must remember. Roose will see the benefit of the marriage for sure.**

**ABEBOABDU: This story is carefully planned out. I realise it's started off slowly, but it's all things that need to be set up or happen before the main story starts.**

**Lightningscar: As I've said, this world was basically made for Torrhen, so his mission to win the War for the Dawn being aided by two extra swords just seemed a natural thing for me. Originally, when I was first planning it, I had the Red Priestess Kinvarra travelling to Winterfell to hand him the swords, but I ended up not using them at all in the rest of the story, so felt that this was the next best way to go. As for Ned, I think Torrhen's wake up call has helped him learn that he needs to think politically.**


	8. The Quiet Wolf's Plan

**Another excellent writing day, and another chapter that's longer than the last. There is another week or so time jump here, thanks to the Kingsroad being so easy to travel in the summer.**

**I know a lot of you don't like Catelyn Tully, but hopefully this chapter can warm you up to my version of her. I doubt it will though, as I am with characters, lots of people are set in their ways and that's ok.**

**I own nothing but Torrhen Stark.**

* * *

Bran Stark loved to climb more than anything in the world. He often found himself climbing the walls onto the tallest towers of Winterfell to stare out at the vast scenery beyond his home. Today was no different, although after being up on the walls for some time, he noticed a group of four riders racing towards Wintertown from the Kingsroad and grinned when he saw the banners.

As he had done half a thousand times, Bran climbed down from the tower until he was back on solid ground. Getting his bearings, he saw Robb laughing with Jon as they watched some of the maids walk past. "Robb! Jon! Torrhen's back!"

Robb looked over at him and shook his head while grinning. "What have you been told about climbing, little brother?"

"Not to do it." Bran said sullenly, before perking up again. "But he's back! I saw him!"

Robb ruffled Bran's hair. "Go and get Mother and Father, tell them that Torrhen will be here soon. I'll grab the girls."

Bran grinned and ran away again to do as he was bid, and about 10 minutes later the entire family were waiting in the courtyard for Torrhen to return back to Winterfell.

Cat and Ned were both silent, as Bran had noticed they had been for over a week. Too excited however, he was bouncing on the balls of his feet for his brother to come riding through the gates. He did soon enough, looking taller on his black destrier.

Torrhen dismounted, and immediately made his way over to Ned and bent his knee. "My Lord." He said formally.

"Get up." Ned rolled his eyes amusedly. "How was your journey?"

Torrhen thought for the right word for a moment. "Enlightening." He answered.

Ned nodded his head. "We'll speak later."

Torrhen then turned to Cat. "Mother." He said happily. Cat didn't stand to formality but moved forwards and swept her boy up in a tight embrace.

"Welcome home." She whispered. They broke apart, and Torrhen reached into his satchel.

"I have letters for you." He told Cat. "Apparently I'm more reliable than a raven."

"Whoever told you that lie?" Robb grinned, as the two brothers embraced. "I don't suppose our spars will be much of a challenge now, if you've not been training for weeks?"

Torrhen grinned. "I had a few lessons with Uncle Brynden."

Robb was jealous. "Teach me everything." He said, in slight awe.

Torrhen then greeted Sansa fiercely, ruffled Arya's hair and moved to Bran and Rickon who were at the end of the line. "Do you want to see something amazing?" He asked the two younger boys. They both nodded. Torrhen looked over to Ned for a moment before moving his cloak out of the way to reveal a brand new sword. Bran stared at the hilt, his mouth open in awe. The handle was many lines of black and silver, snaking around the handle. The cross guard was a simple black closest to the middle, but the edges resembled two black Direwolves snarling. The pommel was also a wolf, but a calmer one, with ruby red eyes.

"Did you get that at Riverrun?" Bran asked.

Torrhen though, shook his head. "No brother, I got it at the Isle of Faces." He unsheathed the blade and fell to a knee, resting the flat edge on his knee as his hands balanced either side.

"Valyrian Steel." Ned said, surprised.

"Winter's Bite." Torrhen told him, and both Ned and Catelyn gasped.

"Impossible…" Cat whispered.

Torrhen looked at Ned suspiciously, ant the Stark Lord just mouthed. 'Later'.

"You must be tired from the riding, we only received your raven that you were at Riverrun a few days ago." Cat said. "Go to Gage, get him to cook you something fresh."

Torrhen nodded, his belly rumbling. As the other young Starks began to tell him stories of things he missed, Torrhen just looked around Winterfell and smiled, glad to be back home.

* * *

After he had been fed and changed into some different clothes, Torrhen made his way into Ned's solar, surprised at how tidy it had become since his absence. A large map of Westeros had been placed on the main table, and Ned was pondering over it.

"Come in, lock the door." Ned said carefully. Torrhen did as he was asked. "Your Mother knows about what happened to you."

That caught him off guard. "How?"

"Sit. Drink." Ned gestured to the chair the other side of the table and pushed a small tankard of ale before Torrhen. "I've been arranging betrothals. I'm not saying anything until they're agreed, but that includes you."

Torrhen bristled. "Father…"

"Don't worry." Ned held his hand up to stop Torrhen. "We need ironwood for a fleet, and for another couple of ideas that will happen. I'm going to approach Gregor about a betrothal with Mira for you."

That really did surprise Torrhen, but he couldn't keep the grin off of his face. "Really?"

"Really." Ned confirmed. "But your Mother was sceptical, so I had to explain it all."

"It all… you told her about Jon too?" Torrhen asked, dreading the answer.

Ned nodded, drinking a heavier tankard of ale. "It… didn't go well. We haven't spoken since."

Torrhen expected that. "I can speak with her… I had to the last time."

Ned sighed, but nodded. "I fear you may have to."

Torrhen smiled sadly. "She came around. I worry that that was because she believed most of us dead, but she accepted it. She will do here."

Ned smiled at his son's efforts to cheer him up. "Go, I'll need you back here later though. I want to run everything by my counsel, and gods forgive me, that includes you now more than ever." Torrhen nodded at that. He went up to leave, but Ned's voice called him back. "The sword. It's yours from the other time, isn't it?"

Torrhen unsheathed Winter's Bite and placed it on the map. "The Green Man pulled it and Riversteel from the stump of a Weirwood. I don't know how, but I've kept all my fingers and he claimed Brightroar is still in Valyria along with Blackfyre, so we have more Valyrian Steel swords in the world."

"And three in Winterfell." Ned sighed, recognising that Torrhen would have given the Tully's the other sword. "Very well, place it in the armoury though, if Robb cannot carry live steel, neither can you."

Torrhen grimaced at that but nodded his agreement. "I'll take it there after speaking with Mother."

And so the 11-year-old boy moved to his Mother's chambers, where Cat was sat at a desk furiously scribbling at some parchment, with a handful of rejects scrunched up on the floor. He knocked on the door and caught her attention. "Oh, Torrhen."

"Can I come in?" He asked. "We need to talk…"

Cat sighed and nodded, gesturing to the bed. They sat on the ends, staring at the fireplace for the longest time until Torrhen gained the courage to speak. "This is strange, for me this isn't the first time that we've spoken about Father keeping this secret."

Cat tensed up. "And what happened in the other time…" She said, struggling to believe she was actually saying the words.

"We were in Meereen, would you believe it." Torrhen chuckled. "I didn't know if I was going to make it out of Valyria, so I gave you the key to show yourself the evidence. You read Father's letter for three days straight. The problem you had wasn't with the truth, it was that as soon as you knew it, you believed it."

"Of course I believe it." Cat threw her hands up in exasperation. "How could I not? Ned would never talk about the boy's mother, nor would he about Lyanna. His mannerisms, they are supposedly like Rhaegar's used to be. It's obvious."

"Not when you're not looking for it." Torrhen sighed. He chuckled at a memory. "You said you wanted to strangle Father."

Cat shrugged, thinking about it. "I'm not mad at him, not really." She admitted to herself. "I'm mad at myself for how I've acted. For how I've been brought up to behave around bastards."

"The North is different, you should know that." Torrhen smiled. "We've rarely had a bastard of House Stark turn against his family. The ancestors of a cadet branch have admittedly, but we look after our own. Jon was never a threat, all he needed was a mother."

Cat nodded her understanding. "But then I look at Ned and I get so angry that he's lied to me, that he's let me get away with treating Jon like a monster…"

"No." Torrhen insisted. "You haven't been a monster, mother. You've been a mother that cared more for her children than anything else. Yes it can come away as cruel sometimes, but you're never a monster."

Cat chuckled, sniffing as a tear fell. "When did you get so wise?" She brought him in for a cuddle.

Torrhen's smile fell. "When my family was ripped apart." He whispered, leaning into his mother's embrace.

* * *

Torrhen was late to the gathering after spending a little time with Sansa, and so as he rushed into the War Council room, a surprising enough meeting place for Ned to gather his advisors, the eyes of multiple people were quickly on him. Robb, Cat, Maester Luwin, Vayon Poole, Ser Rodrik and Jory Cassell were all around the centre table, where a map of the North had been carefully placed.

"You're late." Ned remarked.

"Apologies, Father." Torrhen said honestly.

"Come, I was just about to begin." Ned said. Torrhen took his place beside Robb and waited for Ned to begin. "We have been lax, ever since the Greyjoy Rebellion we have allowed the world to pass us by with little interference. We know not of what goes on in many of our own castles, let alone the South. House Stark has retreated into itself, and I refuse to let that go along any longer."

"You are too harsh on yourself Lord Stark." Maester Luwin said, as calm as always.

Ned shook his head. He looked at Torrhen. "Something has come to light in the past months that have caused me to look at things differently, Maester. And as such, I'm calling all the Lords of the North to Winterfell to discuss the things I am about to tell you all now."

"All of them?" Robb asked.

"Aye, all of them." Ned nodded. He turned to Luwin. "We have the ravens do we not?" Luwin nodded. "Good." He had a small pointing stick and slapped it down on Sea Dragon Point. "This land has been empty and barren for a hundred generations, and we are sorely lacking any form of power on our west coast. I want both a castle and a port town raised here, that will hopefully rival White Harbour one day."

"That will cost a lot of money, My Lord." Vayon Poole, the steward, explained. "Money we don't have."

"We will have ample funds, I assure you." Ned told the man. "But there's more." He pointed to the New Gift. "This land has been empty for decades as the Night's Watch has declined, and if rumours from the North are true, we may just need more Northern defences. A castle will be raised in the Gift, a project which will be aided by House Karstark."

"Forgive me for asking, but why would they part with coin for a castle they have no interest in?" Ser Rodrik asked.

"Because we plan to offer a betrothal between Rickon and Alys Karstark." Cat explained. "Rickon shall take it as his seat when he comes of age."

Ned nodded, before moving downwards, tapping on the Dreadfort. "House Bolton." The room tensed. "Ambitious, devious, and at the heart of a strong alliance with House Ryswell in the Rills, and Barbrey Dustin in the Barrowlands." He tapped each castle.

"Roose Bolton has never displayed any sense of disloyalty to you, Lord Stark." Luwin told him.

"Yet." Torrhen grumbled. Ned nodded.

"Aye, yet. What happens when that changes? House Bolton were the last to fall under Stark rule, they would be the first to break from it." Ned told them. "To counter that, I will suggest a betrothal between Roose's heir Domeric and Sansa."

Torrhen sucked in a breath, but Sansa had just told him about it so his outrage had already been tempered. Robb wasn't so silent. "You'd give Sansa to the Dreadfort?" He cried out.

"I would bind them too us." Ned explained. "No doubt Roose will see it as a way into Winterfell, but I have four, healthy sons before Sansa in the succession, two of which are in this room and know my feelings on the Bolton's." The two sons both nodded. "Plus, they have House Karstark to the North of them, us to the west, and House Manderly on the east."

"And that's where I come in?" Robb asked, which surprised Torrhen.

"Aye, your betrothal to Lady Wylla will squeeze the Bolton's in between strong allies, if they ever grew above their station." Ned explained.

"You're betrothing Robb to Wylla?" Torrhen asked before he could stop himself. Ned and Cat were the only two that understood the outcry. "I… I've heard wonderful things, you'll be happy." Torrhen said to stop himself from saying anything else.

"And with House Manderly marrying my heir, we can get them to aid us in building the other castles and the town, as well as building a fleet." Ned explained.

"My Lord, this will all cost far too much." Poole told them.

Ned smiled wryly. "I'm getting there, Vayon." Poole nodded, and so Ned continued. "Lastly in the North, I will rebuild Moat Cailin completely. It shall be a stronghold to keep the South away or keep the South safe from whatever is in the North that is scaring the Night's Watch so much. That will be your seat, Torrhen. I would name you the Lord of the Causeway."

Torrhen bowed his head. "I am honoured, Father."

"And to build all of this, we need good, quality ironwood." Ned explained. "So Torrhen shall be put forward as a match for Lord Gregor's eldest daughter."

Robb sniggered, and Torrhen elbowed him in the ribs. "Boys." Cat warned.

"Sorry Mother." They both said at the same time.

Ser Rodrik leant on the table. "This all seems… proactive."

"That's because it is." Ned told him. "War is coming, from both directions. That is why we need these projects completed as quickly as we can. Starting with Moat Cailin and the Fleet."

"How will we finance it?" Vayon asked.

Torrhen jumped in then. "By beating House Lannister in the coming war."

A grim silence fell over them all. Ned stood tall. "This is not to go anywhere else. You cannot tell your wives, your siblings, your friends. None of what I am about to say goes anywhere other than this room, am I understood?" The occupants all agreed. "Torrhen is no Greenseer, he has been blessed by the Old Gods in a time we would think of as the future."

"I died in the year 307 after Aegon's Conquest." Torrhen explained. "I fell defeating the White Walker's and the Army of the Dead. Many of us fell in a war prior to that, against House Lannister. The King's children are bastards born of incest between the Kingslayer and the Queen."

Ned nodded. "Torrhen has proven these claims to be true by telling me information only I could possibly know."

"And I can show you all now." Torrhen told them. He held out his hands for Robb and Cat to take, Cat did so, but Robb was unsure. "Trust me, everyone hold hands, and I will show you everything."

Reluctantly, they all did so. Torrhen focused by staring at the drawn Winterfell on the map before throwing his head back, and his eyes went a ghostly white.

* * *

"Robb! Robb!" Torrhen called out, but the heir to Winterfell was in no mood to talk to anybody. As soon as he had seen the Night King stab his brother and they had all returned back to their own bodies, Robb had shot out from the room and ran towards the Godswood. Torrhen had chased after him it seems. "Robb!"

"I'm a failure!" Robb cried as he got into the sanctity of the Godswood, tears stinging his eyes. "I failed you, I failed Mother, I failed the entire fucking North!"

Torrhen slapped him. "Don't you dare." He whispered. "You were betrayed in the worst way."

"I led us all to ruin." He was hyperventilating now. "I trusted Theon… I betrayed my oaths…"

"You did your best!" Torrhen exclaimed. "Aye, you made mistakes. So did I, so did Jon. So did Dany and Jaime Lannister and every fucker who's ever walked the ground! What matters now is how we deal with them. We have another chance, and we can't fuck that up, you hear me?"

Robb nodded, calming down as he stared into the eyes of the Weirwood tree face. "I made your life hell…"

"No." Torrhen shook his head. "That Roose Bolton did, as did that Ramsay, that Joffrey, that Tywin. Nobody here has done anything."

Another thought popped into Robb's head. "You married Wylla Manderly…"

"A different Wylla." Torrhen said quickly. "But aye, that was strange when I heard."

Robb shook his head, and then he laughed. The situation was that insane that he laughed. "That's going to be so strange at the wedding…"

"I don't think she's dyed her hair yet, so it's a different woman all together." Torrhen shrugged. "I'll get over it."

"She gave you a son…" Robb reminded him.

"And I'll always mourn not knowing him." Torrhen told his brother. "But as I said, this is a new chance for us all. Father won't be executed by the Lannisters, you won't be murdered by the Bolton's, and I won't be King in the North. We're already changing things, Robb. That life I had once, that's gone."

Robb sighed and nodded. "I couldn't have done what you did." He admitted. "Going to Meereen, coming back and winning back the North… I couldn't…"

"I couldn't have done any of that without your leadership beforehand." Torrhen told his elder brother. "Without you, the North wouldn't have been as united as it was, it wouldn't have cried out for vengeance as it did. I only followed on from your actions."

Robb smiled sadly. "It was really fucked up, wasn't it?"

Torrhen chuckled. "I don't know what was worse, Hizdahr zo Lorak or the Night King himself."

Robb laughed at that too. "At least I know now." He sighed. "I know what I mustn't do. I know not to trust Theon, I know to keep my oaths…"

"Robb… that was a different you. You will be faced with all sorts of different challenges." Torrhen explained. "All you can do is what you feel is right. Yes, things ended badly there, but those were desperate times where the slightest decision could affect thousands of people. Here, we have Father guiding us, you have me at your side, we have Jon…"

"Jon." Robb scoffed. "Or Aegon."

"He can't know yet." Torrhen said insistently.

Robb looked incredulous. "We have to tell him! He's been wondering who his mother is since he could talk!"

"It's not our secret to tell." Torrhen sighed. "I'd love to, believe me I would, but that's Father's tale."

Robb looked reluctant, but eventually he nodded his agreement. "I won't tell him." He sighed. "King of Westeros though?"

Torrhen laughed. "I know."

"He won't want it."

"He didn't then." Torrhen shrugged. "Fate is fickle though. It has a way of coming around no matter what."

Robb nodded, and sat there in silence for a while. The pair talked long into the night about Torrhen's other life, and afterwards both of them came away from the Godswood knowing that their bond would never be broken.

* * *

While Robb rushed out, closely followed by Torrhen. The others slowly filed out of the War Room under instructions once again to not speak a word about what they had just witnessed to anybody. Cat and Ned remained however, and the pair were as awkward around each other as they were on their wedding night. Ned sighed audibly and said. "My Lady…"

"Let me, Ned." She said, using his shortened name. "I was rash… I apologise for my harsh words."

Ned smiled softly. "You have nothing to apologise for My Lady. It was a lot to take in, and I appreciate that I put you in a tough position."

Cat nodded. "I was taken back to the day I arrived at Winterfell. We'd won the war, I was excited to show you your son and heir, and then there was that woman and the baby… it took me so long to forgive and trust you then."

"I didn't want to lie." Ned told her. "But Robert had called Jon's siblings 'dragon spawn' and he is my sister's son, my own blood. I couldn't allow Robert to know, and back then, forgive me for saying so, but I couldn't trust you to be silent."

That stung Cat, but she understood. "I would have likely written to Lysa." She told him. "I just wish you had told me sooner… I would have understood, and I could have treated him better."

Ned scoffed amusedly. "My Lady, you detesting the boy made the lie easier to believe. Everyone knows of the 'Bastard of Winterfell' and the scorn you had. I apologise for using you both in such a way, I am truly sorry, but I have to keep him protected."

Cat nodded. "I wish I could have been better, I even vowed to myself to love him as my own when he fell ill, I just never could. We were taught by my Septa that all bastards are dastardly and devious, presumably to stop us from having them."

Ned smirked at that. "If Septa Mordane is the standard then I can see why." He joked.

"But he looked more like you than Robb did, and that sealed my hatred." Cat said, ashamed. "I will be better to the boy, I swear it."

"And I swear that I will always be honest with you." Ned told her, taking both of her hands in his own. "You know all my secrets now, Cat. Every one."

She did, she knew all about Ashara and Brandon, she knew about Lyanna and Jon… She looked up into his eyes and saw pure honesty in them. Leaning up, she kissed her husband for the first time in well over a week, the taste bringing a smile to her face. Ned pulled away though and looked at her pleadingly. "But I need you to swear to me that you will tell nobody. Robert will still kill Jon for his blood, and then all of us with him. Swear to me, not only for yourself, but for your Father, brother and uncle."

Cat nodded. "I swear." Ned kissed her again, putting more force behind it as he kissed her passionately. Cat melted into it, longing to feel her husband in the way that only she could. They soon fell to the floor and lost themselves in one another, not caring who heard.

* * *

The next morning Arya was up bright and early as she always was. Torrhen hadn't appeared yet, but it was his first night back in Winterfell so she would forgive him. She raised her bow and fired an arrow, grinning at it bedding itself into the edge of the target.

She went to go and retrieve the arrow when a lot of squawking could be heard from the Maester's tower. Looking up, arrow in one hand and bow in the other she noticed that dozens upon dozens of ravens were being released, flying in all different directions. Somehow she knew that whatever news her Father was sending out, it wouldn't be good.

* * *

**The Quiet Wolf has revealed his plans for the North… There is more that he's planned, but the way the scene fell together meant that I couldn't go on about anything else, so you'll have to wait for that!**

**Cat and Ned have made up too, and while it will take her a while to be cool with Jon, she realises that she needs to do better and will hold herself to that.**

**Next chapter will be a bit different… we're stepping away from the Stark family for the most part, as the first of six that will remember their past lives reveal themselves…**

**Reviews:**

**Chapter 6 – Guest (Mira): Mira is the love of his life simple as. He simply can't feel another way about a woman because of everything that happened in Black Wolf Rises, the way she died and the fact that Torrhen feels partially responsible compounded that feeling into what is almost obsession.**

**ABEBOABDU: He hasn't returned from the Vale yet, so he could still die as per canon.**

**DarylDixon'sLover: Jon isn't really attracted to 'nice' women though is he? Ygritte was a savage murderer, and Dany was a conqueror.**

**Celine: She's not badly educated, she's educated to the same extent that the majority of Westeros is. It's religion's fault, not hers. All she did for the most part was ignore Jon, it's only in her truly emotional states that she shouted at him. Fanfic authors that hate Cat often ramp up the abuse because of the fact they hate her. I don't, I really like her character.**

**ZabuzasGirl: She's not as bad as often made out and is one of my favourite characters.**

**TheTrickster96: Mira and Torrhen will reunite soon, as well as us properly seeing her in the next chapter.**

**Bad Ass Female Fighter: It was a spur of the moment thing that I just thought I had to include for a laugh! He'll tell Jon eventually, but not for a little while yet.**

**stonerkenobi7: Cat had just been given a lot of information and reacted to it while in a bit of an emotional state, she'll calm down and process it eventually.**

**Silver crow: I think Robb will be forever changed by the information he's received this chapter… Technically this Wylla has never been in a relationship with Torrhen but I get your meaning! They'll deal with it, but Torrhen understands the values of the political match, after all he made it himself! The Neck can't offer them much, and they desperately need ships more than they need to show the world that the Neck is a part of the North.**

**Freakdogsflare: I do, and while it's awesome I don't think that Jon would like something like that.**

**Rolling Mist 13: I'm glad you're enjoying it!**


	9. Iron From Ice

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, we've smashed the 100 mark from 8 chapters which is absolutely incredible. Thanks especially to TheTrickster96 who was that magic number 100.**

**The first scene has borrowed some dialogue and bits from Black Wolf Rises, namely chapters 34, 35, 41, 47, 49, 51, 52, 59, 60, 67 and 70.**

**My personal fan casting for Domeric Bolton is Aneurin Barnard. And while you can imagine Telltale Mira, personally, I imagine Madeline Duggan.**

**I own nothing but Torrhen, everything else belongs to either George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

As she walked up to the executioners block she took in her surroundings. A dirty older man's body was being dragged away from the block to make space for her. She saw Sera, she saw Lord Morgryn. She saw countless other people that she had spoken to civilly while she had been Margaery's handmaiden all jeering her and denouncing her for a spy and a traitor.

Once up on the platform and asked to speak her final words, the news that she had just heard was in the forefront in her mind. Torrhen was alive, he hadn't been killed at the Red Wedding as she had thought. She said the only thing that she wanted to say. Glaring at the crowd, she spat. "The Black Wolf is coming. Be very afraid."

That got the jeers and the cries out of the crowd, and Mira just bowed her head. "I'm sorry my love, I will see you soon."

She was told to kneel, and she did so with dignity, placing her head on the block and cringing at the sticky hot blood that stained it. She barely even felt the sword as it rushed down to bite into her neck.

Sooner than a blink however, she was stood upright in a grimy hall. Looking around she saw that she was in the middle of the pathway and in all directions from her men were kneeling. Suddenly, next to her walked Torrhen. The man that she had thought dead, that she had cried as he said goodbye to her after their night together at Highgarden. He didn't notice her, and nobody noticed as she called out his name. He just walked over to the front of the room and knelt behind a giant man in an Umber surcoat. Lord Jon Umber, she guessed.

"I name you Torrhen, of the House Stark. Rightful Lord of Winterfell and the King of Winter!" He cried, as he placed the crown with nine sword like iron points coming out of the bronze circlet. "Long may he reign, the King in the North!"

"THE KING IN THE NORTH!" The men around her all chanted. "THE KING IN THE NORTH! THE KING IN THE NORTH! THE KING IN THE NORTH!"

Suddenly the scene changed again, and they were in a training ground surrounded by pyramids. Torrhen looked older, his beard fuller. He was sparring with an old knight when a dark-skinned child ran up to him and gave him a letter, shouting in a language she didn't know. Torrhen read the letter and dropped to his knees. "Bastards…" He muttered quietly. Mira walked over and read the letter as the old knight picked it up. It detailed her death.

"They will all pay." Torrhen snarled, as angry as she had ever seen him. Mira's hand went to her own mouth to stop herself from crying, as she was forced to watch her lover break down and sob over her death.

She was thrown into new places in quick succession afterwards. She saw Torrhen losing a finger and gaining two swords. She saw him in a fighting pit holding his dead Mother. She saw him at Moat Cailin at the head of an army looking angrily determined, and then watched as he stood staring at a burning wooden keep, the screams of people still inside ringing in her ears.

"Oh Torrhen… what did you become?" Mira whispered. She just wanted to embrace him, to tell him that she was there, but she was lurched again, standing on a wooden platform facing the sea as he stood there waiting to embrace his twin and Jon Snow.

She was then in the middle of a slaughter, standing on top of bodies as she watched Torrhen skilfully slash a large man's back before beheading him, roaring as he lifted the head up in the air. She was then inside the Winterfell Godswood, watching the love of her life marrying another woman before she was back in King's Landing.

She was stood on a graveyard, and both Torrhen and her exiled brother Asher were standing over a grave. Mira moved briefly and gasped when she saw her own name. "She deserved better than this." Asher had growled.

She watched on through tears as Lord Tyrion's squire explained to Torrhen how she had died, and she followed them both when they left the graveyard. Why he was in King's Landing she didn't know, but she followed him until they stopped in the Street of Silk, and Podrick pointed out a man to Torrhen.

It was Lord Morgryn. The man who had tried to force her to marry him, the man who had provided the evidence to have her killed. She grew angry, but was surprised when Torrhen walked up to Morgryn and greeted him.

"What are you doing…" She whispered.

"He's avenging you." An old man's voice said from behind her. Turning, she saw an ancient man in a cloak of raven's feathers.

"Who are you?" She asked.

"I am your guide to the next world." He told her. "I'm letting you see these places so you can understand the man Torrhen Stark became after your death."

Mira didn't know what to say, but her attention was turned as Torrhen had had two guards seize Lord Morgryn. Torrhen sentenced Morgryn to die, and after saying his titles, he leaned in to Morgryn and whispered, but she heard him clearly. "This is for you Mira, my love."

"He was married, yet you were in his heart three years later." The old man said, as Torrhen beheaded Morgryn. "He never let you go."

"Then he was a fool." She scoffed. "He needed to move on with his life, I would just tether him to anger."

They were then in Winterfell, in a room Mira had never been in. Torrhen's wife had put a baby boy in a cradle and the pair were arguing about something, but Mira wasn't listening. She moved over to the cradle and stared down at the baby, the beautiful boy sleeping soundly that looked so much like Torrhen.

"The only girl you've ever loved lost her head in King's Landing and rots beneath the ground." The green haired woman said sharply, and Mira turned in time to see Torrhen slap her hard against the cheek.

Gasping, Mira was shaking her head. "Let me go." She begged, but he didn't.

"Don't you ever mention her again." He snarled at his wife. "Do you hear me?"

Mira was then moved again, it was night time in the Godswood of Winterfell once more, and Torrhen was with a group of people firing arrows at what looked like dead people. The old man was back as well, staring at Bran Stark in a wheelchair.

"This is the fight that he was born for." The old man said. "The living against the dead."

Mira looked up in surprise. "Did you just say the dead?"

The old man nodded and gestured for her to watch on. A demon with a crown of ice moved forwards and met Torrhen in single combat. It was no use however, as even with every move Torrhen had in his locker, he was stabbed in the gut.

"No!" Mira screamed, as she ran towards him. Torrhen fell onto his back, but Mira was right there kneeling by his side. "No no no no wake up." She begged him.

"Stand aside, girl." The old man said.

"He needs me." She snapped, crying once more.

"Watch." The old man insisted, grabbing her shoulder and bringing her away. Torrhen's eyes flashed white for an instant. When he came to he coughed up some blood and grabbed his sword, roaring as he stabbed the demon in the back of the heart. Mira could only watch through her fingers as he was thrown back in an explosion of ice, bleeding out in the arms of Jon Snow.

She was openly weeping now, willing it to all be a dream. "Why are you showing me this?" She cried as Jon and Torrhen spoke their last conversation to one another.

"So you know the type of man he is now." The old man said. "He and his comrades bled over Weirwood roots and the Gods have granted him a second chance. You shall join him in that world."

Mira was still sniffling, but her tears were stopping as that sank in. "I… I get another chance to be with him?"

The man nodded. "Death pays for life, so things will be different. But Mira Forrester, you shall live."

Mira looked back at Torrhen, who was staring up at the red leaves of the Weirwood tree. Her love smiled weakly and whispered painfully. "I'm coming Mira."

Mira let out a laugh. "I'm coming to, Tor. I'll see you soon." She promised him.

Suddenly, she gasped. She was lying down, a set of covers covering her night dress. Different memories flooded her, of receiving a raven from Torrhen and sending one back. She looked around and was surprised to see her room at Ironrath. Groaning, she moved to get out of bed. She looked down as her feet touched the wooden floor and noticed her feet were smaller. On further inspection of her body, she noticed other changes. Her hips were thinner, her breasts were less than half the size they had been before she went away to Highgarden. "The old man was right…" She whispered, when suddenly her door opened.

Elissa Branfield, Mira's mother, opened the door. "Come on." She said urgently. "Your Father called for you, don't keep him waiting!"

"Mother." Mira grinned, rushing over and hugging her fiercely. Elissa hugged her back, slightly bemused.

"Get dressed, Mira." She insisted. "Or I'll tell your Father not to take you."

"Take me where?" Mira asked.

Elissa just grinned. "Get yourself ready and come and find out."

* * *

Mira had quickly thrown on a grey dress with her family sigil dotted around the fabric and had rushed down to the main hall of Ironrath, the castle of House Forrester. She looked over at everyone sat down at the table and wanted to cry once more. Her family, her dead family, were all there minus Asher, who at this point couldn't have been long exiled. Her father, Lord Gregor was sat in his chair having a quiet word with her mother. Rodrik, whole again, was laughing at something Duncan Tuttle had said, as well as Ethan and Talia on the other side of the table, fighting about something.

Taking in the image, she walked over towards them. Duncan Tuttle was the first to notice Mira and rose out of his chair. "Lady Mira." He greeted, offering her his seat. Mira took it gratefully.

"You're late." Gregor noted.

Mira bowed her head. "Apologies, Father. I slept poorly."

Gregor looked at his eldest daughter, concerned. "Go and see Maester Ortengryn afterwards and get some sweetsleep." He said kindly. "But now, onto the matter at hand. I've received a raven from Winterfell."

"Another one?" Rodrik asked, grinning at Mira. "Someone has an admirer."

She hit him lightly on the arm, blushing. The memories of this version of herself receiving the letter from Torrhen were in her mind. Gregor shook his head, a serious look on his face. "This is from Lord Eddard."

That got Rodrik to take it seriously. "Lord Eddard?" He asked. "Why is he writing to us…"

"He is inviting all the Lords of the North to Winterfell for a grand council." Gregor explained. "That's all we have."

"A council?" Talia asked. "Why? It's not time for the Harvest Feast is it?"

Elissa shook her head. "No, this is highly irregular. But if Lord Eddard summons your Father, he will go."

"We have been loyal to House Stark for almost 2000 years." Gregor explained. "We will answer his summons now, no matter what the reasoning behind it is."

"We?" Ethan asked.

Gregor nodded. "I will take Rodrik and Ethan with me. As well as you, Mira. Lord Stark has asked for you to come personally."

That took Mira back, this hadn't happened at all in her other life. "Me? Why would Lord Eddard ask for me?"

"Maybe Lord Torrhen has been begging him to take you to wife." Rodrik grinned, earning an elbow.

"Mira." Gregor warned her, and she looked at him apologetically. "We don't know why Lord Eddard has asked for you, but we will answer him nonetheless. Go on the rest of you, Rodrik, Ethan, go and pack. Talia, I want you to aid your Mother around Ironrath while we are away. Help out with Ryon."

"I will, Father." The young girl smiled. The children soon left the table, leaving Mira alone with her parents and Duncan Tuttle standing in the background.

"Mira, if Lord Stark is asking us for a betrothal, we need to be cautious." Gregor said calmly. "This isn't a light request."

Mira was surprised. "We should be honoured, shouldn't we?"

"We should, and we are." Elissa insisted. "But we aren't a large house, and outside of Lord Glover's realms we are only known for our Ironwood, and the fact that my family fought on the wrong side of the Trident during King Robert's rebellion…"

"You were his vassals, they can understand that surely?" Mira asked.

Gregor shook his head. "There are some that still belittle us for it, not that it matters to me." He took his wife's hand. "But we are not a big enough House to be able to fight off this talk alone."

"Then a match with House Stark seems wisest, tying us to our Wardens." Mira told them.

Gregor sighed. "It will be met with resistance, Mira. Imagine Lord Karstark, or Lord Umber finding out about this and feeling grieved that their own maidens were overlooked for a younger house that's a vassal to Lord Glover, not Lord Stark himself."

Mira smiled. "Father, if what you believe turns out to be true, then that is great news for our House. Look at the positives, we'd be matched to House Stark themselves, we could create trade links with everyone else that marries into Torrhen's siblings. We'd have the backing of House Stark if the Whitehill's try something again…"

"Gods forbid." Gregor grumbled.

"And you'd be making me happy by accepting." Mira insisted. "Truly happy."

Elissa looked concerned. "You're still young, Mira. How do you know this infatuation will last?"

Mira smiled, and spoke wiser than her perceived years. "Some loves are not limited by just one lifetime. Some last a thousand. I have faith that ours is like that."

* * *

Miles to the east on a hill looking over the Weeping Water, the Dreadfort stood tall and dreary. Domeric Bolton hadn't seen the castle of his birth for three years, since his time at the Redfort in the Vale squiring for Lord Horton Redfort. Newly knighted and proud to have received one of the finest horses in the Redfort stables as a gift, Domeric had been summoned home by his Father.

The nineteen-year-old rode into the gates to a large procession of people that he vaguely remembered from his youth. He greeted them all, speaking with Steelshanks, Locke, and even the Kennel master and his daughter, Myranda.

He was quickly escorted up to his father's chambers. It was a grim room, lit only by a couple of windows and a few candles. He suddenly felt an urge to go back to the Vale but fought it down.

His Father was sat staring at the map of the North, and as soon as the door closed behind Domeric leaving them alone together, he fell to one knee. "Father."

He looked to the ground waiting to be told to rise. He heard heavy footsteps stop and saw the tips of Roose Bolton's boots. "Rise."

Domeric did as he was asked, and stared at his Father's cold, pale eyes for the first time in three years. Roose opened his arms out, and Domeric hugged the man awkwardly, before being released. He was at least three inches taller than Roose now, having grown a lot in the last few years. "It is good to be home, Father."

Roose nodded. "You look well, Ser Domeric."

Dom grinned at the title. "Lord Redfort was good to knight me. He is a fine man, Father."

"Just don't forget yourself." Roose told him. "You are a Bolton, a Northman." Domeric nodded. Roose moved over to his desk and picked up a raven scroll. "This is why I summoned you back." He handed Dom the letter.

"Lord Stark is gathering the nobles?" He asked, not expecting an answer. "It seems a bit early for the harvest feast, summer isn't over yet."

"It's far too early." Roose told him. "Which means that Lord Stark is planning something that involves the entire North being on side."

"And are we?" Domeric asked. It was a dangerous question, but he hadn't earned his knighthood by being meek.

Roose raised an eyebrow, and Dom almost thought a smirk had appeared on the man's lips. "For now." He said. "Lord Stark has also requested your presence, which is why I have summoned you back."

"Me?" Domeric was surprised at that.

Roose nodded. "Strange things are occurring in Winterfell. Your aunt in Barrowton wrote to us not so long ago speaking about a party from House Reed riding North, and then a Stark party joining them back Southwards. Ned Stark is plotting something, and it's completely out of character."

"Then we go." Dom surmised. "We observe, and we see what he is planning."

Roose did smile for a moment then. "Very good."

Dom grinned back. He was ushered to the desk for a moment and waited while food was brought to them, and the pair caught up properly. Domeric was gushing about his experiences in the Vale, and he noticed that Roose didn't look overly happy at how close he had gotten with Lord Redfort's sons, especially the youngest two who were closest to him in age. That led Domeric to ask the question he had been dreading to ask all journey back home. "I heard… rumours."

"Hmm?" Roose barely batted an eyelid.

"Of a brother of my own, of your blood." Dom mentioned.

That stopped Roose in his tracks. He placed the chicken bone he was eating down onto his plate and cleaned his hands. "You have no other living brothers."

"That's not true though, not really." Domeric countered. "I have a bastard brother…"

"Enough." Roose said coldly. "I do not know where you heard these rumours from, Domeric, but that boy that would call himself a son of mine is a rabid animal. You would do well to forget about him."

"How can I?" Dom asked. "He is my brother."

"He tortures women for sport." Roose snapped. "He would see you dead sooner than he would embrace you as kin. You are my heir, my only living heir. You will not see that beast; do you understand me?"

Dom grimaced, knowing his Father was likely just trying to scare him off so that Dom didn't reveal his father's shame to the world. "I won't, Father." He lied.

* * *

Torrhen awoke with a startle, as his door was thrown open by an excitable Sansa. "Wake up!" She cried. "Wake up wake up!"

Torrhen groaned as he tried to turn over so that his face was buried in his pillow, but his covers were stolen quickly and Sansa was now jumping on his bed. "Go away!" He cried, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"Fine, I guess I'll steal all your presents then." Sansa said. That got Torrhen's attention.

"What?" He asked.

Sansa laughed. "Don't tell me you've forgotten? It's our nameday silly!"

Torrhen bolted upright. "Is it?"

Sansa grinned. "Yes!" Torrhen remembered his 12th nameday. He had collaborated with his Father months beforehand to get Sansa a new harp, so thankfully he hadn't forgotten to get her a present. Sansa however had something wrapped in leather in her arms. She handed it to him. "Here you go."

He carefully unwrapped the leather, grinning at the reminder. It was the only surviving copy of Septon Barth's '_Dragons, Wyrms and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History_' that somehow, Ned had managed to get a copy of, with the other copies all perishing in Baelor the Blessed's book burnings. "Thank you." He grinned, wrapping Sansa in a hug.

"Your welcome." Sansa said in a sing song voice. "Father already brought your gift to me up to my room and I love it thank you! Now get changed!" She said bossily. "We've got lemoncakes for breakfast!"

Torrhen laughed and kicked Sansa gently off of the bed, walking to close the door behind her as she left him to get ready. 20 minutes later and he was sat down beside Ned at the head of the table, with Sansa on Ned's left hand side.

The entire Stark family were at the table, including Jon which surprised most of the family. The food came out first, with Sansa of course tucking into the lemoncakes. Torrhen ate his fill, and soon the presents were being distributed.

Jon, Arya and Robb had all clubbed together to give him a decorated hunting knife, while Bran and Rickon had clearly been given the thick black wolfs fur cloak from Catelyn to give to him, but he thanked them nonetheless. It was Ned and Catelyn's gift that really surprised Torrhen however, as Theon brought it in for them. Torrhen uncovered it and gasped, as he looked upon a beautifully carved Weirwood bow.

"This must have cost a lot…" Torrhen whispered.

"We carved it from our own Weirwood tree, Torrhen." Ned told him. "No matter where you go, this means that you will always be with the Gods, and you shall always have a piece of Winterfell with you."

He was speechless, and quickly got up to grab both Ned and Catelyn in a fierce hug. "Thank you." He whispered to them both.

They all ended up going riding into the Wolfswood after breakfast, and for once all of the Starks managed to have an entire day together, enjoying themselves before the Lords and Ladies of the North started to arrive, and everything changed.

* * *

**So, we're starting to include some other places. Domeric Bolton died in canon by being too stubborn to listen to Roose, and if things stay the same that will happen here…**

**Mira was fun to write, as I said all of those 'flashes' were from scenes in Rises. Something has happened for her to be brought back however, so all isn't 100% rosy there.**

**This will be my last chapter before my holiday. I'll likely be silent for a couple of weeks, but I'll keep checking my emails and PM's if any urgent questions need answering.**

**Apologies to the two reviewers of chapter 7 that I didn't respond to, I'd finished the chapter and made it ready to upload before your reviews, so I'll answer them now if I can.**

**Reviews:**

**Chapter 1 & 2:**

**stylo1: He's just been thrown out of his comfort zone to a place where he doesn't know if he's dreaming or not, to be disorientated is natural. As for Ned, in chapter 69 of Rises Torrhen was wishing Ned was there to talk to. He's just got his Father back and Ned was the Lord of Winterfell for around 18 years before he died. Of course he's going to listen to Ned's expertise.**

**Chapter 7:**

**C.E.W: Mance Rayder will be a part of it later on in the story.**

**Black Magic99: She was constantly worried that he would usurp her children. She was constantly worried that the Northerners would see him as the 'true heir' of Ned Stark due to his looks. The fear wasn't uncalled for.**

**Chapter 8:**

**DarylDixon'sLover: You'll have to keep reading to find out what happens to Jon.**

**TheTrickster96: I have never watched community sorry… but no, 6 other people will remember the Black Wolf Rises world.**

**ABEBOABDU: You'll just have to keep reading, if I answer those then I'll spoil my plans!**

**Northern Plans: Possibly, depending on if I feel it makes sense in the plot. That was a late addition to be honest, but it made sense to have Robb react the way I wanted him to in his next scene. Ned trusts the Northerners, so Tywin etc won't hear of this. I'll explain why the South don't hear anything when I involve them in the story. Sam Tarly is a huge spoiler, sorry, as is the Free Folk.**

**Boltons: He could…**

**Freakdogsflare: Unfortunately most Saturdays I'm busy, so not a lot of time to write.**

**Patriot-112: Brightroar will stay whole.**

**Bad Ass Female Fighter: Arya and Gendry won't have the same experiences that they had in canon, so honestly I doubt I'll write them meeting, let alone falling for one another. You did miss Bran being spoken about for a very good, pre-planned reason, one I was hoping I'd slip past my readers but you're too good!**

**harisnorw: It's refreshing to hear someone else agree.**

**Black Magic99: Lots of war and death is yet to come, but it won't be as tragic for House Stark as Rises was.**

**Svenion: The Moat will be extremely impressive when Ned and Torrhen are finished with it…**

**C.E.W: Robb will certainly treat her better than Torrhen did. The Lannisters will be more concerned at how quiet any news coming South of the Neck will be. And as for Daenerys, nothing on her side of things will change before her wedding to Drogo.**


	10. The Direwolf and the Weirwood

**I'm back after over a week away and wow… Italy is incredible. I could spend the entire chapter going on about how amazing the country is, but we've got a very important chapter to get through!**

**I hope you all enjoy it. As always I own nothing but Torrhen.**

* * *

The Starks had a brief moment of calmness before the masses of people arrived, and Torrhen had decided to spend a bit of time in the library, having missed the majority of the books that had burned when Bran was attacked so many years ago to him. He was extremely surprised to find Sansa already there alone, sat reading '_The Flayed Man: A History of the Red King's_'.

"That's an awfully grim book for one so fair to be reading." Torrhen noted with a grin at his sister.

Sansa nodded, looking slightly ill. "I thought I should read up on House Bolton, as I'm due to become one. I didn't realise that the history was so…"

"Brutal?" Torrhen asked, growing more serious. Sansa nodded. "That is why your match is so important. Our houses have warred for thousands of years."

"But the flaying?" Sansa gulped. "The cloak of skins?"

Torrhen smiled reassuringly and closed the book for Sansa. "Rumours, that's all."

"I'm just worried." Sansa admitted. "What if I can't be strong enough, what if I displease Lord Roose and he flays me?"

"Flaying is outlawed." Torrhen said quickly. "And he wouldn't dare, for he will know that if even one hair on your head is harmed then I would ride over there and cut him down where he stood."

Sansa was alarmed at his sincerity but appreciated the sentiment anyway. "You are just one boy, Torrhen."

Torrhen shook his head. "I am a Stark of Winterfell, as are you. And as long as the pack remains united then none can harm us."

Sansa just sighed. "I just hope I can be a good Lady."

Torrhen grinned at her. "I had a vision." He told her, knowing full well it was her other self that he was about to talk about. "Where a certain Lady Sansa of Winterfell managed to unite an army of 20,000 mounted knights to protect her home. She became their leader and they respected her because of her wisdom and her heart." He held her hand. "One day you will break the shackles of childhood sweet sister and you shall rise greater than you can ever imagine. You are more than enough for the likes of Domeric Bolton. I fear it will be you leading him, not the other way around."

Sansa had a large smile at Torrhen's words. "You really think I can do it?"

"I pity the man that tries to stop you." Torrhen said honestly.

* * *

Half a dozen houses had already arrived at Winterfell when another call went up. Minor Houses from the Wolfswood such as House Woods, Branch and Bole were joined at the great stronghold by other Houses close to Winterfell, like House Cerwyn, House Tallhart and House Hornwood, and Torrhen had been entertaining Lord Halys Hornwood and his son Daryn when the horns sounded, and the call of 'Forrester' went up. Excusing himself Torrhen raced towards the North Gate, almost knocking over one of the washerwomen in the process.

He made it to the battlements in time to see the small party arriving, no more than a dozen members of the group. The black banners with a white Weirwood tree were growing more visible each second, and Torrhen couldn't help but feel an immense sense of guilt. He heard footsteps stop beside him and Torrhen wasn't surprised to see Robb standing there.

"It wasn't your fault you know." Robb told him.

"Most of them died because they were linked to me." Torrhen shook his head. "Rodrik, Asher, Mira. Ethan and Talia. All because of me."

"And Lord Gregor died following me. You were left in that position because of me." Robb reminded Torrhen.

Shaking his head, Torrhen argued. "You were betrayed…"

"And you were fighting a losing battle against House Bolton alone." Robb insisted, turning and holding the back of Torrhen's head. "It is more my fault than yours that those men died, and I'm living with that every night now."

"Robb…"

"Enough." Robb said, a weak smile on his face. "Go and greet Mira, you've waited long enough."

Torrhen laughed bitterly. "She won't remember me as anything but the child that stole a kiss in the Godswood. None of my memories with her will count for anything. How am I to act?"

Robb leaned down so that he was at eye level with his younger brother. "If you say she felt the same way as you, then you'll know as soon as you see her."

Torrhen grinned and clasped Robb's shoulder in a parting, he turned and ran back down to the courtyard by the North Gate and stood in line with Ned.

Moments later, riders came through the gates. Lord Gregor rode front and centre with Rodrik and Ethan beside him, while Mira was further back. As soon as Torrhen saw her he couldn't take his eyes off of her, drinking in every feature of her face.

"Act properly." Ned whispered to him. "You'll see her later on at the feast."

Torrhen gulped and nodded, but his grey eyes met her deep blue ones, and she smiled fondly. Torrhen smiled back but had to be stoic once again as the party dismounted. Lord Gregor led the Ironrath party to stand before Ned and Torrhen and the Lord of Ironrath was the first among them to kneel. The rest soon followed.

"Lord Stark, I have answered your summons and pledge my undying loyalty to you and yours." He spoke formally.

"Rise, Gregor." Ned waved his hand, and quickly enough they all did. "It's been what, two years?"

Gregor nodded. "Aye about that. You remember my heir, Rodrik?" Ned shook Rodrik Forrester's hand firmly, and Rodrik smirked over at Torrhen, shaking his hand too. "My second son, Ethan."

Torrhen's old friend then stepped forwards and Ned offered him the same greeting as Rodrik. Torrhen meanwhile hugged the boy quickly. "My friend, it's good to see you once more."

"And you, Lord Torrhen." Ethan bowed his head.

"None of that, not to me." Torrhen insisted.

Gregor then moved to introduce Mira. "And my daughter, Mira."

She was so close now and Torrhen's breath caught in his mouth. Ned kissed her hand. "A pleasure, My Lady."

"Thank you for inviting me to Winterfell once again, Lord Stark." Mira curtseyed. Her eyes locked with Torrhen's, and the Stark boy was surprised to find relief shimmering in her eyes. "Torrhen." She whispered.

Torrhen formally took her hand and kissed it, his lips lingering. "As beautiful as always, My Lady."

"You are among the first here." Ned explained. "Come, we will show you to your chambers." He spotted Sansa walking along with Jeyne Poole and called her over. Sansa ran towards them, and Ned asked. "Would you take Lady Mira over to her chambers?" Torrhen was a bit disappointed that he couldn't have done so, but propriety was key if they wanted to convince all the Northerners that the threats were real, and so he bit any form of response. Sansa just smiled and offered her arm out for Mira, who took it with a final look over at Torrhen and walked away. "We're keeping the noble ladies in a separate part of the castle as theirs fewer of them." Ned explained. "Come, we shall escort the rest of you to your quarters."

Torrhen was the one to show the guards to the barracks and he did so dutifully. All the while though his mind was on the girl that had been on his mind for years.

* * *

House Glover arrived a few hours after the Forrester's, and a large feast was held to honour the house that governed over the Wolfswood. Lord Galbart Glover had the high table, conversing with Ned and Catelyn about something that Torrhen couldn't hear.

The young Stark himself was stood to the side, not really joining in the festivities but keeping a watchful eye on the room. He spotted Mira laughing at something Sansa was saying and smiled. Robb was talking with Rodrik Forrester and Daryn Hornwood, and Torrhen could hear his brother's deep laughter from where he was standing.

His eyes wandered further around the room. Gregor Forrester was catching up with other vassals of House Glover, such as Benjicot Branch and Noseless Ned Woods. Halys Hornwood was arm wrestling Ser Rodrik and Arya was chasing Bran around the room. Chuckling softly, Torrhen didn't hear footsteps coming to join him.

"She's excited to see you too, you know." Ethan Forrester told him. Torrhen turned to his former friend and grinned at seeing him, the thought of Ramsay Snow's knife in Ethan's chest moving to the back of his mind.

"Ethan." Torrhen greeted.

"Hello Torrhen." Ethan smiled back, before his gaze turned to his older sister. "She's only acting properly because she wants to prove herself to the other Lords."

Torrhen was confused. "Why does she need to prove herself?"

Ethan looked at him blankly. "You're a Stark, you wouldn't understand…" The Forrester boy said not unkindly. "We're not a big house, Tor, but we aren't stupid. You've been writing Mira letters and suddenly she is requested to come to Winterfell with my Father?"

"And?" Torrhen pushed.

"Do you know what an honour it would be to get a marriage with House Stark?" Ethan asked. "It just doesn't happen for Houses like mine."

Torrhen tried to remember his House history. "We've married with Mountain Clans before… Mormont's, Locke's."

"And also Manderly's, Blackwood's, Karstark's and Tully's." Ethan countered, reminding Torrhen how smart the boy was. "All of the houses you mentioned are at least twice as powerful as us. My Father is just cautious, he knows what the other Houses would think, as does Mira."

Torrhen shook his head. "You needn't worry, Ethan."

"But we do." Ethan sighed. "Mira isn't worried either, but Father doesn't want to seem like we're being too ambitious based on a spark from two years ago."

Torrhen appreciated the warning. "I promise, it will all be ok." Torrhen insisted. He turned back to the room where some tables were being cleared to make way for a dancefloor, and Catelyn was being spun around by Galbert Glover. "I'll make sure of it." He moved through the crowds and made his way over to the table where Sansa was entertaining the young women of Winterfell. More people were joining the dancing thankfully as a hearty Northern jig was beginning, and Torrhen held his hand out to Mira. "A dance, My Lady?"

He heard Jeyne Poole giggling into Sansa's shoulder, but Mira just smiled and nodded. "If you'll excuse me, Lady Sansa?" She asked politely. Sansa nodded, beaming, and Mira stood herself up and took Torrhen's hand. "It took you long enough." She muttered.

"Propriety…" Torrhen began as he placed a hand on her waist.

"When have you cared about propriety?" Mira chuckled. Her smile fell and she stared up into his grey eyes as they began to follow the steps. "I know what happened to you." She told him.

Torrhen didn't have time to be surprised, as they both parted and began clapping as Catelyn dragged Robb into the centre of the dancefloor to dance with her. Once that was over, the pairs re-joined and Torrhen asked. "What happened to me?"

"The old man showed me it all after I was executed." Mira whispered gently. "Your Grace."

He was speechless. He grabbed her hand tightly and moved her over to the corner of the room, to give them enough privacy to talk but so they were still in view of everybody. "You can't say that." Torrhen whispered frantically. "If the wrong people hear…"

"I know." Mira insisted, laying a hand on his chest. "But I needed to tell you that I know it all… I'm the same as you, Tor."

'_You will not be alone_' the old man had told him that day at the Weirwood Tree '_But only death pays for life_'

"Oh no…" Torrhen whispered. "What happened? Who died?" Mira initially showed surprise. "Death pays for life."

Mira's head dropped. "Asher… We got the news just before we left. He died in Lys fighting against a man they called the Scourge. I know you were close."

Closer than Mira had been towards the end for sure, but he was still her brother, Torrhen realised. "I'm so sorry." He whispered. "This is all my fault."

Mira hit him lightly on the chest. "Don't you dare blame yourself. This is down to the Gods and the Gods alone."

Torrhen sighed. "I sent him to his death before… now he's dead again."

Mira shook her head. "We all made decisions back there, and not all of them turned out for the better." She smiled sadly up at him. "I will forever miss Asher and mourn that I never got to see him once again, but we have a second chance now, Tor. We can punish the Lannisters before they ruin our lives again."

Torrhen agreed. "We're already planning, Mira. My Father knows about me, as does my Mother and Robb. We won't lose again, Mira. I promise."

"And then afterwards?" She asked. "What about the dead?"

Torrhen hadn't realised that she knew about what had happened after her death and was taken aback. "What do you know?" He asked.

"I saw it all." Mira admitted. "I saw you taking back Winterfell. I saw your son… I saw you die, Tor. I saw it all."

Torrhen was speechless. "How?"

"The old man." She told him. "He took me through it all to help me to understand you."

Torrhen nodded, sighing dramatically. "Then you know why it is so important to me that nothing like that happens again. We must be ready for Winter, for it will come with a vengeance."

Mira said nothing but took his hand in her own and gripped it tightly. Torrhen responded in kind, mourning his old friend Asher, but vowing to himself to protect all those that remained close to him from the coming storm.

* * *

The next morning, while the majority of the castle was nursing sore heads Ned had invited Gregor Forrester into his solar. Before the minor Lord arrived Ned had made sure to clear up any papers that were of sensitive information and had kept only his plans for Moat Cailin and the Northern Fleet on his desk.

There was a knock on the door and Jory Cassel popped his head through the door. "Lord Forrester here to see you, Lord Stark."

"Send him in, Jory." Ned commanded, and the aging Lord Forrester entered the solar. "Gregor, have a seat." He pointed to the seat in front of the desk.

"Why do I feel like I've been misbehaving, and my Father has sent for me." Gregor jested.

Ned chuckled at that. "Don't worry, I'd like to think that this will be a good discussion. Firstly though, I was truly sorry to hear about Asher."

Gregor bowed his head shamefully. "Exiling him should have been the hardest thing I have ever done, and I hate that it was an easy choice. Still, he shouldn't have died so far away from home."

Ned remembered well the troubles between House Forrester and Whitehill and the almost war that happened a few years ago. "We shall drink to him now." He said kindly, offering Gregor an ale. They touched their glasses together and drank deeply. Ned then asked. "I trust that you will be able to keep your cool in case of any taunting? I will warn Ludd personally, but I understand your feud well enough to know that my words mean little."

Gregor's eyes darkened. "It was Ludd's daughter that caused the exile in the first place. If he is to say something I will hold my tongue, but I shan't like it My Lord."

"I understand." Ned said quickly. "But this gathering, while unprecedented also requires the entire North to be on board, and Roose and his vassals are always the trickiest to deal with. I'm hoping that my proposals are enough for him."

"Proposals, My Lord?" Gregor asked.

Ned nodded. "For the first time in history a Stark has proposed a marriage with a Bolton. If Roose agrees, Sansa shall marry his heir, Domeric."

Gregor was smart enough to see the danger of such a move. "My Lord, forgive me for speaking ill of the man, but you know what Roose Bolton will think?"

"I do." Ned nodded. "He will likely see it as a chance to get Winterfell into Bolton hands, but while House Stark remains strong and I have four healthy sons, he will have to settle for a marriage. For you, however, I propose more."

"More?"

Ned pushed the Moat Cailin plans in front of Gregor. "I want to completely rebuild the Moat. For too long the only defence of the North has been left in disrepair, and if some of the things that I fear are coming to pass happen, then we will be in sore need of it."

Gregor looked over the plans. "9 towers?"

"Like the old Crown of Winter itself." Ned explained. "A fortress that can defend the North from all those below the Neck, and also the South from the North if needed."

"Why would that be needed?" Gregor asked.

Ned sighed. "Winter is coming, those are my family words. It warns us that Winter is always around the corner and we must be ready, but why did my ancestor choose that wording? White Walker's and wights are but legends, but nowhere in the legends did they say that we defeated them for good."

"My Lord…" Gregor said.

"I know, it sounds like folly." Ned chuckled. "But I can't ignore the possibility. You will know well enough that there is an increase in deserters from the Wall, and even Wildling incursions have grown. What has them so scared? I have to be ready, in the slim chance that something is coming from our North."

Gregor nodded. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want House Forrester Ironwood for the fortress. I want House Forrester Ironwood for a fleet." Ned told him. "I would have Torrhen wed Mira to forge a binding alliance between our two houses. Robb will marry a Manderly, and together our three Houses can ensure the North is as strong as it has ever been."

Gregor stood up and knelt immediately. "My Lord. You honour me too much."

"Stand up, Gregor." Ned said with a rare smile. "Your Ironwood is famed throughout the realm, and you have always been a loyal friend to House Stark."

Gregor did as he was bid. "I fear though, the dowry will be pitiful."

"This is why I wished to speak to you in person." Ned explained. "I understand your reservations My Lord. Which is why I do not seek gold for a dowry, but an agreement. Agree to aid with the construction of the Moat and the Fleet, and I shall be happy enough."

"Ironwood for my daughter?" Gregor asked.

"Ironwood to give your daughter all the protection she will need as the future Lady of Moat Cailin." Ned corrected. "Torrhen will be granted the castle, so if Mira weds him…"

"She will be the Lady." Gregor finished. "My Lord, this is a lot to process." He chuckled.

Ned appreciated that. "Do this and I shall see what I can do about expanding your own lands to encompass the rest of the Ironwood forest. I shall speak with Lord Bolton himself."

Gregor grinned. "That will frustrate Ludd greatly." He thought for a moment. "Very well. I accept, Lord Stark. My Mira will marry your boy and we shall do our utmost to produce the finest Ironwood for Moat Cailin."

Ned grinned and stood to clasp Gregor's hand, firmly shaking it. "You have no idea how much my plans were depending on your agreement. Thank you, Gregor."

Gregor was a bit flustered and picked up the Moat Cailin plans again. "This is a great fortress, Lord Stark. Are we really preparing for war so soon? Who are we fighting?"

Ned looked grim, and his eyes darted to the map of Westeros on the wall. "I wish I knew, Gregor."

* * *

**They're reunited and it feeeels so good! **

**All songs aside, Torrhen's got his wish and is reunited with Mira. The first 'death pays for life' is revealed as well, with Asher's death paving the way for Mira's consciousness to appear in this reality. As much as I liked Asher, he was the obvious choice there in being so far away from the rest of the family.**

**Torrhen and Mira are officially betrothed to. Some of you like it, some of you hate it. All I can say is that pairings have never been important to my plots and soon enough the focus will stop being on Mira and more on the Lannisters and the White Walkers!**

**Until the next chapter though, where the rest of the North will arrive, all I can say is I hope you enjoyed it and see you next time!**

**Reviews:**

**harisnorw: You'll have to wait to find out!**

**Skrumf: Luckily he hasn't rushed off to meet Ramsay before going off to Winterfell, so there's a chance…**

**Hear My Fury: Torrhen would prefer Domeric survived so that there is no chance of Ramsay ever being needed for the succession. You're very right about Barbrey, she'll be there in the next chapter. **

**DarylDixon'sLover: You'll have to wait to find out.**

**chm01: Haha for once, listening to Roose is an excellent idea.**

**Bad Ass Female Fighter: Let's just hope that someone else gets there first.**

**Seraph: Roose for all his faults was a true Northman, he was just a bit of an evil guy as well.**

**C.E.W: You're bang on.**

**Guest (Domeric): Soon, Ramsay will come into it soon.**

**EstarossaTheBasilisk: I PM'd you as you reviewed, but as I said there I'm not changing my plan because one person dislikes how I've portrayed the pair.**

**AZW330: Thank you! And it's been an honour writing for everyone.**

**Guest (Chapter 1): And he's what?**

**Shiray: They have the largest number of men of any house in the North sworn to them directly, and of course their direct vassals such as the Cerwyn's and Tallhart's too.**

**Guest (Slow): Chapter 21 is the start of the show, but things will happen before then, I just need to set it all up.**

**xXLannisterCrusher64Xx: Because Torrhen is a second son, and with that comes a bit more freedom. The Telltale Series really intrigued me, and Mira was a character that I felt deserved a lot better, they're of an age with one another and Ironrath is close enough to Winterfell for them to have met before. They slept together at Bitterbridge too when they first reunited in Rises. Fair enough if you don't enjoy this one, but personally I prefer it to United in Fury.**


	11. The Grand Northern Conspiracy

**Those of you that read the books and know of the theories will recognise the title of this chapter. Of course, the Lords of the North aren't plotting against the Warden here, but I felt the title amusingly apt so thought I'd give my personal favourite Winds of Winter theory a nod.**

**I own nothing but Torrhen.**

* * *

The largest procession to make its way to Winterfell came by the way of the Kingsroad, as the white merman banners of House Manderly came riding slowly down the hills. Robb was up on the ramparts just watching as the wheelhouse of Lord Wyman grew larger as it neared the castle. Steeling himself to what was about to happen, Robb tightened his sword belt and his cloak and walked down to where Ned was waiting for him.

Lord Wyman had brought over 100 mounted knights with him, as well as dozens of squires, servants and other attendants. Catelyn was still rushing around to find them all a place to stay either within Winterfell or in the Wintertown. Robb quickly arrived in the courtyard and took his place at the side of his Father.

"I know what I'm putting you through today." Ned said quietly. "Thank you for being so good about it."

Robb nodded. "It's my duty. You married Mother without having seen her before, I'm thankful that you're giving me the chance to meet Wylla first."

"Just remember that this isn't the same girl that Torrhen has told you about." Ned told him.

Robb was glad of that, not even wanting to think about that other future. He didn't have to worry about it for long, as the Wheelhouse of House Manderly rolled through the gates of Winterfell. It was beautifully carved ironwood and looked to be more expensive than anything Robb had seen save the Valyrian Steel swords of his house.

First out of the wheelhouse came the extremely large Lord Wyman, the Lord of White Harbour. He was dressed for combat, although his fighting days looked long gone. A steel gorget covered a blue green tunic, the colours of his house, and an ornate sword at his hip with the merman of Manderly on the pommel.

His granddaughter followed him out of the wheelhouse and immediately met Robb's gaze. He gave her his most charming smile, growing in confidence when the blonde girl smiled back, tucking her hair behind her ear.

Robb pried his attention away from the girl and turned to where Wyman Manderly was rising from kneeling before Ned, his large figure straining to get back up. "It's good to see you again, Wyman."

"Aye, it's been too long My Lord." Wyman nodded. "I was most intrigued at your letter."

"All will be revealed soon." Ned promised, before gesturing to Robb. "You remember my eldest son and heir, Robb?"

Robb offered out his hand and Wyman gripped it firmly. Robb squeezed back, much to Wyman's amusement. "Aye, you'll be a good match for my Wylla for sure."

Robb smiled. "I hope I don't disappoint My Lord."

"Nonsense! A strapping lad like you, you'll keep her on her toes." Wyman laughed. He moved to introduce the girl. "Here she is now, Lord Eddard, Lord Robb. My granddaughter, Wylla."

Ned kissed the girl's hand first as Wylla curtseyed before the Warden of the North, and Robb followed his Father's lead.

"You look beautiful, My Lady." He told her. Wylla just smiled.

"Show the Lady and her attendants up to her room, Robb." Ned told him. "I have a lot to discuss with Lord Wyman."

An unasked question was left in the air as Ned left an eyebrow raised, asking if Robb wished the betrothal to go ahead. Robb nodded his agreement, turning back to the girl and knowing he had made a good choice for his House. "If you'll follow me, Lady Wylla. You are in the same wing as my sisters."

The Stark heir waited for Wylla and her attendants to get their things ready before leading them into the main keep of the castle, trying to strike up conversation with his new bride to be.

* * *

A few days later and Torrhen had already had enough of bumping into people at every corner. The only peace he seemed to get was in the ancient Stark Godswood, hidden away deep into the three acres of woodland area to get away from those using the heart tree to pray. He brought Mira with him, using the excuse of babysitting Rickon to get away. The guards let them have a bit of space, and Torrhen and Mira sat down with a small picnic.

"I forgot how peaceful it is in here." The Forrester girl said.

Torrhen nodded. "I always feel better here, even after what happened."

Mira grimaced, the image of Torrhen bleeding out stuck in her brain. "Don't." She pleaded. "We won't let that happen again."

Torrhen agreed, taking out a pork sausage from the little basket and eating it. "No, we won't." He insisted. "Once the Lords know to prepare, we'll be more than ready for the Lannisters and the dead."

"How can you be so sure?" Mira asked.

Torrhen grinned. "Because I'm directly involved?" He jested. After seeing Mira's unamused look, he laughed and was more honest. "Father and I have been working non stop on plans and contingencies. Once the North is on board and knows what we want of them, we'll go and talk to Stannis Baratheon in King's Landing about the Dragonglass. Hopefully we can get the mining process going as soon as possible. Then we can settle into a routine of rebuilding the moat, building a fleet and forging weapons and defences for the entire North."

Mira nodded, before laughing at Rickon struggling to climb up one of the trees. Torrhen rolled his eyes and went to grab his little brother. Holding the squirming toddler over his shoulder, Torrhen then noticed Catelyn walking through the Godswood towards them. Torrhen set Rickon down, and the toddler ran to his Mother.

"Torrhen, you're needed." Cat told him. "Lord Karstark is here with his heir and one of his granddaughters."

The young Stark's face grew stoic. "Is it starting?"

"It will be soon. Your Father has summoned you to his solar in the meantime." Catelyn told him. "Come, Rickon. Let us go to the kitchens and find you a sweet."

Rickon cheered and ran off towards the castle, leaving Cat to follow him walking briskly. Torrhen turned to Mira. "I'm sorry, our picnic will be cut short."

Mira smiled, standing up and standing before him. "Go." She insisted, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Go and unite the North behind Winterfell."

* * *

The Great Hall of Winterfell was rammed. Lords and Ladies of the entire North had travelled to the Great Castle after the summons, and there were dozens of banners flying at the back of the room. Torrhen was sat beside his Mother on the high table, who in turn was at the right side of Ned, while Robb was the other side of the Lord of Winterfell, and on the heir's right was Benjen Stark, having travelled down from the Wall at the request of his brother.

Torrhen's attention was focused on the tables further down the room however, where all the Lords and Ladies had come with their own advisors. The sight of a healthy Lord Wendell Glenmore warmed Torrhen's heart, but the sight of Roose Bolton talking to a young man with his own eyes hardened it once again. Reminding himself that nobody here had committed any form of treason, Torrhen waited until Ned had finished conferring with Maester Luwin, and soon enough the Stark patriarch banged his tankard on the table, silencing the room.

Ned stood up and looked around at his subjects. "My Lords." He said commandingly. "My Ladies. I appreciate that this gathering is unusual. Usually we will only gather like this in times of war, and I'm afraid to say that the likelihood of us calling our banners grows by the day." Torrhen heard the murmurs of unease throughout the room. "Many of you will have noticed the increase of Wildlings and Night's Watchmen fleeing from the Wall, and many of you will have executed them yourselves. What you may not know, is the reasons for this desertion."

"What reason could those savages have other than they're sick of freezing their arses off next to their ugly wives?" The Greatjon roared, to the laughter of the room. Nobody on the high table joined in however.

"The Long Night comes again." Ned told them sharply, and the silence was deafening.

Lord Cerwyn was the first to speak. "Have you lost your senses My Lord?" Medgar asked.

"The Long Night is a myth, a legend." Lady Lyessa Flint added.

Maege Mormont however wasn't so disbelieving, standing up and taking the attention of the room's occupants. "My Lords, My Ladies. Bear Island has long suffered under the hands of Wildlings. We have fought them and the Ironborn for a thousand generations and will continue to do so for as long as we need to. I've never known Wildling's to surrender in all of my life, until the last few years. Their only request is to burn their bodies. Tell me, for such a proud, and savage people why would they submit themselves to be killed with only that request?"

"Forgive us, Lord Stark." Wylis Manderly, heir to White Harbour piped up from beside his father. "But what proof have you had of this?"

Benjen then stood up. "Most of you know me." He called out. "I am Benjen, son of Lord Rickard Stark the last Lord of Winterfell. First Ranger of the Night's Watch. Nobody alive this side of the Wall knows the lands beyond as well as me, and I've seen abandoned villages that have stood for thousands of years. I've seen graveyards torn up and the bodies burnt. I've seen no sign of Wildlings in places North of the Skirling Pass that have been settlements for eons. Something has them scared, My Lords."

"And then, there is the signs from among our own." Ned began. "All of you know our legends, and most of you were there when Lord Howland Reed dreamed up the enemy's movements upon the Trident a week beforehand. We all know the power of Green Dreams and by chance, we have two with the gift among our numbers. Lord Howland's heir Jojen and my son, Torrhen, have both foreseen this. The dead will march upon the Wall."

"The Wall will fall." Torrhen then said loudly. "Dead men will enter the North, and the Night King will set his sights on all of you."

"We are to believe your son?" Roose Bolton asked for the first time.

"I believe him." Ned said strongly. "He has the sight that is for sure, he has seen things that only I know the truth of."

"Then what do we do?" The Greatjon asked. "My lands are closest to the Wall, and if all of this is true then I will be the first to fall."

Murmurs of agreement was made from the Northernmost Lords. Ned nodded and raised his arm up for silence. "We prepare." He said simply. "We arm the Wall with as many men as we can. Throughout the North we are a sparse population it is true, but we have greybeards and green boys that would love nothing more than to spare their family from a harsher winter. We offer rewards for the families of those that volunteer for the wall. We arm them with castle steel and strong armour ourselves, and we train those that remain."

"This will all cost a lot, Lord Stark." Lady Barbrey Dustin shouted from towards the back. "Are you trying to beggar us?"

"The costs will be of no issue." Ned said loudly. "But all of this will have to wait for the moment, as a more pressing matter has befallen us."

"More pressing than an army of dead men killing us all?" Lord Bolton's heir Domeric asked sarcastically.

Torrhen nodded. "Lions lay with Lions, and the Stag is dressed in motley." He said as cryptically as he could. "The Lions overreach and crumble, and the realm is saved."

"I know King Robert well, we are like brothers." Ned explained. "You all know this. I have had it confirmed that King Robert has been made a fool of. He has been cuckolded in his royal bed and the King's children are not his own."

Sharp whispers were heard, and Torrhen could see that Ned was grateful he had both Wyman Manderly and Howland Reed on side before this meeting. "Those are treasonous words, Lord Stark." Roose Bolton reminded him.

"And I do not say them lightly." Ned told them all. "This is why I have called you all here. I would have the North united whilst turmoil grips the South. I would have you all aware of what I have learnt, so that when the fallout of this treason hits us we are ready."

"Will you tell the King?" Howland Reed asked.

Ned shook his head. "For now, he would be disbelieving, and we are not ready for the fallout."

Shouts fell upon them as the crowd dissented. "TREASON!" and "GUT THE ROYAL WHORE!" Were among the loudest of the shouts. Ned smacked his tankard on the table once more, and the room fell silent.

"I understand your misgivings!" He shouted. "I understand that some of you may even be thinking of writing King's Landing and confessing my words. I have faith and trust that none will. We are the North. We are not like the Southerners, we are not fighting over this Game of Thrones that has the South so enraptured. We follow strength and we prepare for Winters to hit hard. We have never involved ourselves with the South unless absolutely necessary, at times like my ancestor Cregan Stark ending the Dance of the Dragons, or to avenge our own as we did in Robert's Rebellion. We are a strong nation that has never lost a war to the South, and that is because we have been united ever since the last Red King bent his knee to Winterfell." He looked pointedly at Roose then. "I would not see the North be ripped apart from the inside, and nor would I see it crippled at the hands of a monster from legend."

The room began banging their own tankards in agreement. "What would you have of us then?" The Greatjon asked again.

"I would have you prepare." Ned said honestly. "As I am doing in Winterfell. Stockpile your food and train your smallfolk. The South will be at war soon and we shall look to end it swiftly. We shall keep the North's business to ourselves and the South shall be unprepared."

"Who are we fighting?" Maege Mormont asked.

"House Lannister." Robb said firmly. "They have committed treason against the crown, and so long as King Robert lives they shall be on their own."

"But before war, and before we even look to talk to the South, we strengthen ourselves." Ned explained. "Moat Cailin is to be rebuilt into a stronghold like the North has not seen in thousands of years, held by a Stark, but manned by men from all over the North, from all of its Houses."

"Aye." Was the call, and the banging of goblets indicated the majority's togetherness. Torrhen noted it was the usual suspects who were abstaining. Lord Bolton, Lord Ryswell and Lady Barbrey chief among them.

"We shall build a fleet, so that the North knows strength at sea again." Ned called out to more cheers, the Manderly party the loudest. "We shall build a port town upon the Stoney Shore. For too long have we neglected the West Coast and the threats we could face there."

"To be held by another Stark? A babe?" Barbrey Dustin mocked.

"To be held by Robett Glover, if he would accept." Ned called out. The man in question looked questioningly to his brother Galbart, before rising and kneeling before Ned.

"I would gladly accept this honour, Lord Stark." Robett Glover said proudly. He was bid to rise and sit back down, and Ned continued.

"And to bind us together, I propose a betrothal between our houses." Ned said. "Your son may be young, Lord Robett." Ned used the man's new title. "But when he is of age, he shall wed a Stark."

Ned was sure to leave it there, and both Robett and Galbart eagerly accepted. This was of course a formality. Ned had spoken with Galbart beforehand, as he had with all of his major vassals to explain their parts in all of this. He then moved on to the next item on his list.

"A new castle, a stronghold to aid the Night's Watch and to be our first defences against the coming storms will be erected in the New Gift." Ned told them all. "Lord Karstark, I would propose a betrothal between your granddaughter and my youngest son, Rickon. It shall be his castle when he is of age, but it will be close to your lands and Karstark blood shall rule it until the end of time."

Lord Karstark rose and knelt. "We are kin, you and I. I would be glad to renew those bonds once more."

"And to ensure that the new Northern ships are built efficiently and swiftly, and that the new town, the new castle and Moat Cailin have the best foundations possible, my son Torrhen will wed a daughter of Lord Forrester with a promise of Ironwood and the best carpenters in the North as aid in all of our new endeavours." Ned took a quick drink, and Torrhen noted how the Lords clung to his every word. "Lord Bolton, have you an answer to my proposal to yourself?"

Lord Bolton looked to his son, who just nodded curtly, and stood up. "I have, Lord Stark. We accept. My heir shall marry your daughter, Sansa."

That sent shockwaves around the room, as the repercussions of a Stark Bolton wedding wasn't lost on the others. "Excellent." Ned began. "The North must tie itself together now, more than perhaps any time in its history and a match between our Houses will be crucial in that. As will the betrothal that I have negotiated with Lord Wyman, for a wedding to be held on the Southern holy day for the Father that you are all invited to, between my son and heir Robb and his granddaughter, Wylla. This shall hopefully be the first wedding of many between Northern Houses, and I hope you all follow suit in arranging suitable matches to tie us all together."

Torrhen knew it would take more than just words to ensure that the Northerners did as they were asked, as well as keeping things from the South so that they could prepare in peace, but the celebratory mood in the room was one that filled him with a good amount of hope that maybe the North could pull together against whatever it faced.

* * *

A feast had raged for three days until Torrhen could see that Ned was convinced that the Northern Lords would agree to his plans, and some had even come up with improvements while in their cups. Ned had told them that while Robert wasn't to know about the Queen's treason yet, he was still heading Southwards to King's Landing to treat with Stannis Baratheon, and that had gone down relatively well when the promise of Dragonglass and its uses were put to them. Even the marriage front had been particularly promising, with Elaena Glenmore marrying Rodrik Forrester in front of the Winterfell Weirwood on the first night, and matches between Torrhen Karstark and an Umber woman, as well as the four Ryswell boys all being betrothed to different houses being among the most important.

Torrhen himself couldn't relax though. Every time he saw the Leech Lord of the Dreadfort his skin crawled. His son seemed amiable enough, but Torrhen had taken to watching them both from the battlements when he found the time. That was where he was as Domeric Bolton and Barbrey Dustin spoke in hushed tones in the courtyard, amongst the clanging of swords as numerous heirs and Lords honed their skills with Robb, the Stark heir gaining their respect by his friendly nature and skill with a blade.

"Domeric seems like a good man." Ned's voice came from Torrhen's left. He turned his head and saw Ned walking towards him.

"I don't trust him. He's a Bolton." Torrhen remarked childishly.

Ned gave him a look. "Yet you trust Daenerys Targaryen, who's Father did more to harm House Stark than any Bolton has in a thousand years."

"Dany isn't her father…" Torrhen began, before he saw that his own words were being used against him. Ned's wry smirk just compounded the lesson. "He's still Roose's son."

"True, but look. Really look." Ned asked of his son. Domeric was laughing at something and kept the smile on his face for a long time. "When have you ever seen Roose Bolton even smile?" Torrhen couldn't answer. "We are strong, House Bolton will remain loyal to us because they can see the benefits of being closer to Winterfell than they have ever been. I will not underestimate the man, but I cannot blindly distrust him based on a future that will never happen."

"I understand." Torrhen nodded. "I don't trust him though, I don't trust that Roose hasn't already sent a rider to King's Landing."

Ned chucked softly. "White Harbour is firmly in our hands and all boats are being checked. As is the Neck and the Causeway, Howland has made sure of it. The North will remain silent until I am ready to sail to King's Landing to speak with Stannis and Jon Arryn."

Torrhen had to admit, he was impressed. "I never knew you to have this level of cunning, Father."

Ned laughed again. "You remember my saying, the lone wolf dies."

"But the Pack survives." Torrhen finished.

Ned nodded. "That works with the North as well. The North is my pack. In your other future I was blinded by trust in the South and acted alone, only to die and have the North tear itself apart. I won't let that happen this time, and though I'd prefer all my children marry for love…" He looked off into the distance and the pair saw Sansa nervously making her way from her group of girls over to speak with Domeric. "I have made sure that you are all key in uniting our nation beyond any doubts."

It was evening before Torrhen was comfortable enough to leave Sansa in the presence of her betrothed without him watching over her like a hawk, and as he always did when he needed to calm himself he made his way to the archery range.

* * *

Another feast had been called to celebrate some of the unions that had been agreed and while Torrhen just couldn't bring himself for another night of celebrations most of the other Northerners could, so he had expected to be alone. This wasn't the case though, as a young man had beaten the young Stark to the range. He wore the leather armour of House Glenmore, and even though he was younger, Torrhen recognised his dearest friend from after his coronation immediately. He waited until Cregan Glenmore had hit another bullseye before speaking.

"Cregan, right?"

The Glenmore looked up in surprise and nodded. "Yes, Lord Torrhen." He said formally.

"Please, just Torrhen." The Stark insisted. "That's some nice shooting."

Cregan smirked at the compliment. "I'm trying to get as good as my older brother, he never misses the centre."

It took everything he had to not grimace at the thought of Arthur Glenmore's fate. "I hear he and his elite guard are more than a match for anyone with a bow." Torrhen told Cregan. "I wanted to join them, once. I wasn't allowed of course."

Cregan was in awe. "You wanted to join our guard? My Father would have been most honoured."

Torrhen grinned. "If I was a thirdborn or fourth born son maybe. Although being granted Moat Cailin isn't a bad substitute."

Cregan laughed. "Not at all. I'll be lucky to inherit a barn."

Thinking on that, Torrhen had an idea. "Moat Cailin is the first line of defence for the entire North, and I wanted men of most Houses to come and be a part of my household. If you like, I'm sure we could find you a role."

Cregan's eyes widened. "Are you serious? You don't even know me."

Torrhen smirked, shrugging. "I'm a good judge of character." He took his bow from over his shoulders and nocked an arrow, loosing it into the centre of the target next to Cregan's. "Plus, I need someone who can challenge me with a bow."

Cregan just laughed as he nocked another arrow in his own bow, and the pair competed against one another until the light failed them, becoming fast friends once again.

* * *

**So there we have it, everything has been laid out for the entirety of the North, and as shown in the show when everyone followed Robb at the start because of their love for Ned, they follow the man himself with barely a question.**

**Torrhen also was reunited with his friend from the last story. Fingers crossed he doesn't get ripped apart by wights this time…**

**Robb has met his betrothed too and is starting to gain the respect of some of his Northern compatriots in a more relaxed environment than in canon. **

**Next chapter will bring back Jon, as he isn't too happy to be completely overlooked along with everything that he's been dealing with as the 'Bastard of Winterfell', as well as another bastard being brought up and a strain on the Northern Alliances may be felt in the process…**

**Reviews**

**Memnon45: Italy was incredible thank you!**

**10868letsgo: Nobody South of the Neck will hear about any of this until Ned is ready for them to…**

**C.E.W: I did too, but for Mira to come back somebody close to her had to die, and he made the most sense for now. Beskah died with Asher. The rest of the realm will be in for a rude awakening once the North flexes its muscles.**

**gsaint413: He's about, not really doing much at the moment other than train and mope around. He'll start growing in importance over the next few chapters though and his own arc will begin in chapter 21.**

**Fury074: I honestly didn't know that, but I'm not going into tremendous detail about what is used in the ships, so imagine it as a mix of Ironwood and other things to strengthen the hulls.**

**xXLannisterCrusher64Xx: Good! I hope you carry on liking them, as I've written enough angst about them being apart.**

**RHatch89: Thank you!**

**The Three Stoogies: It happened off screen, but thanks for the kind words.**

**Rolling Mist 13: I loved the game and really want another series, so I do try and include them where I can. **

**Masso 2010: He may interact with one again, but he's Stark/Tully so has no Targaryen or Valyrian blood in him whatsoever unfortunately. Balerion is the largest of the Stark Direwolves and he rode him in the other story, so that's possible again.**

**Patriot-112: Mainly shields, and the doors to the crypts are Ironwood too.**

**Bad Ass Female Fighter: The Fat Stag will play his part.**

**linetel: The Lannisters won't be in it for a little while yet, we're still focused on the North for a few more chapters before they come into play.**


	12. Their Blades are Sharp

**As you can tell by the title, this chapter is a bit Bolton heavy. Things are moving forwards now and we will soon be moving our attentions below the Neck, but before that there is still one loose end left to tie up.**

**I hope you all enjoy the chapter. I own nothing but Torrhen.**

* * *

It wasn't just Cregan Glenmore that had been asked to go to Moat Cailin and form a household. Many younger nobles of the North had been asked to join Torrhen at the stronghold. Ethan Forrester and Roose Ryswell had both come asking Torrhen himself for a place, while Torrhen Karstark and Daryn Hornwood had both been approached by Ned, the latter of whom was encouraged to accept by his Father even though he was the heir to Hornwood.

Ned was in his solar finalising some of the roles that these young men should have when there was a knock at the door. "Jon to see you, Lord Stark." The guard's voice came through the door.

"Send him in." Ned said, finishing what he was writing and making sure that Dark Sister was out of sight. He looked up to see a nervous Jon Snow stood before him. "What is it, Jon?"

The younger boy took a deep breath and began. "I want to join the Night's Watch."

It was too early, Ned thought. He ran a hand through his beard. "Have you thought this through?"

Jon nodded. "Even bastards can rise high in the Watch. Uncle Benjen says that they could use men like me."

"You're still a boy, Jon." Ned sighed. "Wait a few years, live a little."

"What am I waiting for?" Jon scoffed, unlike himself. "You clearly don't want to let me form my own cadet branch and passed over me for the Stoney Shore. I'd rather join the Watch now and prove myself there than wait around for whatever scraps may be left." He sighed. "I know I shouldn't expect anything. I'm only a bastard, but I'd be loyal, Father."

Ned was pained at his words. "I just don't think you've thought it through. You wouldn't be able to meet a woman, to raise a family…" He didn't want to mention Daenerys Targaryen, but the girl was on Ned's mind.

"I don't want a family." Jon shook his head, speaking childishly. "I'd be best off on the Wall. Out of the way of you and Lady Stark."

"I don't want you out of the way, Jon." Ned insisted. "You are my blood."

"But you hide me away?" Jon was growing angrier. "You keep me hidden when guests are here so I don't offend anybody. If I am your blood, are you ashamed of me?"

Ned was taken aback. "How could you think that?"

"If it's not that, then you enjoy tormenting me." Jon was saying, without a filter now. "Lady Stark torments and belittles me and you do nothing. I ask you for a hint about who my Mother is, and you say nothing. I ask to leave; you tell me know even though staying at Winterfell will just cause more issues…"

"Take care how you speak." Ned warned him. "I have my reasons, Jon. You need to trust me."

"How can I?" Tears were forming in the boy's eyes. "Just tell me who she is, Father. Please."

Ned shook his head. "You're acting like a child. Seeing things that are not there. You are not ready for the truth that is plain to see."

Jon looked outraged. "I…"

Ned didn't let him finish. "Your place is at Winterfell. Your place is by Robb's side training with him so that you are both ready for when he takes over as Lord of Winterfell. I'm sorry Jon, it's my fault that you feel so worthless in Winterfell, but we are not owed anything. A man such as you are destined to be needs to prove himself worthy."

"I have been." Jon said through gritted teeth.

"Then why are you here?" Ned asked, willing this conversation to be over before he said something he regretted. "Until you show me that you can act like a man grown, we will speak no more of your Mother or any titles you feel you should have been granted, am I understood?"

Jon just nodded. He went to leave the room, shoulders slouched, when he turned around once more. "Can you tell me anything about her? Please?"

Ned sighed, throwing himself back into his chair. Nodding, he said quietly. "Her last request, she begged me to protect you, to look after you. And I swear, everything I am doing is to that end. You may not believe me, but it is true. I do not mean to be cruel; I mean to protect you."

Jon felt a tear fall down his cheek then as one of his worst fears were realised by his words. "Her last request?" Jon asked, his voice breaking.

Ned was in anguish as well. '_Promise me, Ned._' "I'm sorry Jon. I truly am." He whispered.

Jon could only nod the once before fleeing the room. Ned held his hand out to see that it was shaking. Sighing loudly, he poured himself some ale and downed it quickly. Someday he would have to tell Jon the truth, but he wasn't ready yet, and he wasn't sure that he ever would be.

* * *

Meanwhile in the training yard Torrhen was giving Cregan Glenmore a bruising with a blunted blade. After the fourth time of battering Cregan to the ground, the Glenmore just stayed on the ground, panting. "No, I'm done." He wheezed.

Torrhen grinned and held an arm out for Cregan to take. "You just need to keep an eye on your shield, you lower it too much."

Cregan rolled his eyes but took the hand anyway, hauling himself up to his feet. "This is why I'm an archer." He grumbled.

"You need to be able to wield multiple weapons." Ser Rodrik Cassel came over to them both. "You never know when you may need to handle yourself in closer quarters."

Cregan nodded, not wanting to complain to the knight. "You fought well though." Torrhen admitted. "You gave me some good whacks."

"Not enough." Ser Rodrik told him. "You're getting arrogant. Arrogance is…"

"A swordsman's downfall." Torrhen knew the phrase. "Apologies, Ser Rodrik."

Ser Rodrik just smirked and held his hand out for the weapons. "Go on, I think you're expected elsewhere lad."

Torrhen was confused, but he noticed Mira walking over to them both. "My Lady." He bowed his head. "I apologise for my appearance."

"I think I can deal with you when you've been sweating in the training yard, Torrhen." Mira grinned. "I was wondering if you wanted to take a walk?"

Torrhen nodded happily. "Of course." He turned to Cregan. "I'll meet you later?"

Cregan nodded, unsure of how to act in front of Mira. "Urm, yes sure. I'll see you at dinner."

"You're Cregan, right?" Mira asked, knowing full well who he was as Torrhen talked about him enough. "From House Glenmore?"

"Y… yes My Lady." Cregan stumbled. "My sister is wed to your brother."

Mira smiled brightly. "Well that makes us family then." She told him. Looking up at Torrhen, she then added. "Shall we?"

Torrhen nodded, slapping Cregan on the back in farewell before he offered Mira his arm. They walked around Winterfell for a bit, passing the Lichyard of all the former Stark servants and the abandoned First Keep, and close to that was the Broken Tower, the ruined tower having been abandoned and left to fall into disrepair after it was struck by lightning over 100 years earlier.

"It's still beautiful." Mira said softly. "Winterfell, I remember being in awe the first time I was here and that hasn't changed.

Torrhen nodded. "It has it's perks." He looked up at the First Keep grimly. "Bran was pushed from there."

Mira grabbed his hand in her own. "Tor…"

"It's alright." Torrhen insisted with a weak smile. "He needed to fall, he needed to open his third eye or whatever it was. That doesn't mean it still doesn't spook me."

Mira nodded. "I understand. I dread to think what it would be like to see King's Landing again, or even Highgarden."

Torrhen squeezed her hand in an act of comfort. "Looking at it also makes me nervous." He admitted.

"How so?" Mira asked.

"King Robert coming North to Winterfell, Jaime and Cersei Lannister fucking, none of that will happen." He sighed. "I have to think that what we are doing is good, that we're protecting and saving lives, but what if I'm making everything worse? What if the wars to come are even more deadly than the ones we know?"

Mira smiled, and kissed him on the cheek. "You can't think that way, Tor. What you have done has been good for us, for the North. Ethan is betrothed to a Tallhart, House Karstark and Umber are now linked by marriage instead of squabbling… you're tying the North together in a way that hasn't been seen since the Andal invasion."

"I know, I just have a feeling like there's something we're missing." Torrhen sighed. "I'm being ridiculous, aren't I?"

Mira just chuckled lightly. "No." She said, running her hand through his hair. "You're worrying about the larger picture. You're being a King."

She leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. A smile formed on his lips as they kissed, and Torrhen truly believed that maybe he was overreacting, and everything would be ok.

* * *

The feasts had died down a bit, but the Lords and Ladies of the North that had stayed at Winterfell in preparation for the wedding of Robb Stark and Wylla Manderly, and that was most of them, still ate together on an evening. The same night of Torrhen's trip to the broken tower with Mira he found himself sat with his younger sister Arya as she was firing question after question to Cregan Glenmore about anything related to the bow.

Torrhen wasn't paying too much attention, he was staring over towards his twin sister, who was sat giggling with Domeric Bolton. Not sure what he should think about it, he was quickly elbowed in the ribs by Arya.

"Seven hells." He winced. "What was that for?"

"You're ignoring us!" Arya exclaimed. "How far can you shoot?"

Torrhen thought about it for a moment, not really sure. "I don't know Arya; I've not gone for distance with my new bow yet."

"Can we go now!" She asked excitedly.

Torrhen shook his head. "We're busy. I'm busy."

"You're moping because Mira couldn't come tonight, and Sansa is all loved up with her new betrothed." Arya grinned. Torrhen rolled his eyes and shoved his younger sister off of the bench she was sat on. Cregan laughed along and was splitting his sides when Arya came and dumped the rest of her broth on Torrhen's head.

"Right." Torrhen exclaimed, standing up to look at Arya's mischievous expression. "That's it!"

He ran towards her, laughing along as Arya fled the room. He chased her out into the courtyard where a light dusting of snow had begun to fall, until he finally caught her in the stables and picked her up over his shoulders.

"Let me go!" She shrieked, giggling as she tried kicking out to free herself. Torrhen held firm though, before dumping her in the hay inside the stables. Torrhen pinned her down and rubbed her hair with his knuckles, making her squirm.

"Apologise and I'll let you go." He told her.

"Ne… never!" Arya laughed, writhing from underneath him. Torrhen continued attacking her hair then until she finally said. "Ok I'm sorry!"

Grinning in victory, Torrhen got back up and helped Arya up. "You best get back to the feast." He told her. "And if Cregan is happy with it, you can take my new bow out and see how far it fires."

"Really?" Arya asked, wide eyed in excitement. "Thank you!"

She crashed into him and hugged him, Torrhen ruffled her hair again. "Now go and let me change, you've ruined my shirt."

Arya shrugged. "It was funny though." She told him before running off.

Torrhen shook his head at her antics before he quickly made his way into his room. He whipped his shirt off and found a clean, black one. He had only just managed to tuck it in nicely when a familiar knocking pattern of five knocks came from the door, one that he and Sansa had used since they were small. He walked back over to the door and rapped it three times, before opening the door.

"Mother wasn't happy." Sansa warned him.

Torrhen shrugged. "We were having fun."

Sansa had the faintest grin on her lips. "She scolded Arya when she got back. I wouldn't go down if I were you or you'll be helping Hodor out for a week."

Groaning, Torrhen threw himself on his bed. "I almost can't wait to move over to the Moat. I can set my own rules."

"You'll be away from us though." Sansa pouted, sitting delicately next to him. Torrhen sat himself upright and took her hand.

"You'll be moving away too before you know it." He said gently. "And you seem to get on well with Domeric."

Sansa couldn't contain the grin that found its way onto her face. "He's wonderful Tor!" She exclaimed. "He sings, he plays the harp, he writes me small poems on a morning. He rides as well as anybody that Father has ever seen and Lord Redfort says that he will be a famous tourney knight! I can't believe that he's the son of Lord Bolton, they're so different."

Torrhen couldn't help but feel happy for his sister. "I'm glad you get on so well, truly." He squeezed her hand. "Just be careful… the Bolton's aren't trustworthy."

Sansa pulled her hand away and looked at him scoldingly. "Dom is." She insisted. "He's a kind, honest man. He talks to me about how much he loved the Vale, how he misses Lord Redfort's sons. He's going to find his bastard brother once he leaves Winterfell and be his friend. Isn't he sweet?"

Torrhen's eyes shot open in horror. "What did you say?" He whispered darkly.

Sansa was confused. "He's… he's going to find his brother." She said quietly.

Torrhen shook his head, and all his fears from earlier with Mira were realised once more. He got to his feet and began to pace along the floor. "No, no no this can't happen." He whispered to himself.

"You're scaring me." Sansa said firmly. "What are you talking about?"

Torrhen turned to her. "His bastard brother is dangerous, Sansa. The most dangerous man in the North. He's evil, pure evil."

"Jon isn't…" Sansa began.

"Jon was brought up with us, he knows us as his family and we've never really treated him any differently." Torrhen said quickly, beginning to panic. He remembered his cover story. "I've dreamed of the Bastard of Bolton. He flays his enemies and he hunts women with packs of dogs, naming new hounds after the more spirited ones. He's a vile, foul little creature that's always been jealous of Dom's place in the succession."

Sansa was terrified at the thought. "That's not true." She whispered.

Torrhen couldn't stay and explain. "I have to go." He insisted. He barrelled out of the door and sprinted away, although he wasn't sure if he was going to go to his Father, or Domeric.

* * *

It was late when Ned summoned Roose Bolton to his solar, but the Lord of the Dreadfort came all the same. He entered the room to see a tired looking Ned Stark. "Lord Stark."

"Lord Bolton." Ned greeted. "Please, sit."

Roose did as he was asked. "Is something the matter?"

Ned just nodded. "Your son."

That surprised Roose. "Has Domeric offended you in any way? Has he dishonoured Lady Sansa?"

Ned shook his head firmly. "No, not at all." Roose breathed a sigh of relief. "Domeric has been the perfect gentleman. Sansa is quite enamoured with the boy. No, this is about your other son."

Roose froze. "I have no other sons." He said quickly.

Ned almost laughed. "My son, Torrhen. You know of his dreams, right?" Roose nodded, although he was still disbelieving. "He dreamed of your son; Ramsay is it? And all the things that he does in your lands."

"Things?"

Ned looked at Roose blankly. "I'm going to speak bluntly, Lord Bolton. Your son is a criminal. Any other holding and he would have been put to death ten times over for the crimes he has committed. Murder, flaying? And you allow this."

"I don't allow anything." Roose said bitterly. "He has been warned numerous times."

Ned was glad that Roose was starting to be honest. "And now I have dark rumours reaching my ears. Rumours that he is planning to kill both you and your son in order to take power at the Dreadfort."

"That will never happen, Lord Stark." Roose said quickly.

"You can guarantee that?" Ned asked. Roose couldn't answer. "Look, I understand your position, if any of my sons did those things then I may find it hard to bring the proper justice too but think of my position too. If this bastard wishes harm upon you and your son, I cannot in good faith send my daughter to the Dreadfort, not if her life is in danger by going there."

Roose clenched his teeth together and glared at his liege lord. "What would you have me do?" He asked. "He is still my seed, whether I like that fact or not. I will not become a kinslayer, Lord Stark. I would not have the Gods curse me as such."

Ned nodded. "That need not be the case at all, Lord Bolton." He pushed a document in front of Roose. "But until he is dealt with, I cannot sanction the betrothal we've agreed upon. I will not send Sansa where she can be reached by such a man."

Roose looked at the document and saw it was their own betrothal contract. He read it over and noticed that the original dowry figure had been crossed out and tripled. "Lord Stark…" He tried to protest.

"I wish our houses to be joined, Lord Bolton." Ned said firmly. "I truly do, but I will not allow it while that madman runs loose committing his crimes."

Roose just stood up and took a breath. "I accept your amendment." He said unhappily. "It seems I have no choice in the matter. But Lord Stark, I will have no part of this."

Ned nodded. "I understand." He said calmly. "And I hope this can begin a long and fruitful relationship between our two houses. After all, we will share grandchildren one day."

* * *

Ned couldn't sleep that night, and he found himself walking along Winterfell's ramparts with his thoughts racing. It was still snowing softly, and he always found the cold soothing.

One person who didn't agree was his wife. Catelyn walked towards him wrapped up in at least two cloaks, tightly clinging to them with her gloved hands. "It's barely dawn." She said to him as she reached him. "What troubles you?"

"More and more with each passing day." Ned admitted. "I hate to say it, but I'll be glad when Robb is wed and the Manderly's are tied to us by marriage."

Cat was surprised. "What have you heard?"

Ned sighed and shook his head. "Speculation, nothing more. Roose Bolton's bastard has been causing trouble for years and yet Roose does nothing about it."

Cat bristled at the word she hated. "He must have his reasons." She told him.

"He needed a second option in case Domeric died." Ned explained bitterly. "He would raise a monster up to be his heir. We came to an agreement though."

Cat nodded, knowing that she would likely not get any more information than that. They stared out towards the East for a few moments, watching as the few occupants of the Wintertown that stayed in the summer years started their days.

Their peaceful moment was interrupted with a shout from the guards, however. "Open the gates!"

Cat looked down to see half a dozen riders racing away, Stark banners on their flanks, and her eyes were drawn to the leader riding the jet black destrier. "What is he doing?" She hissed.

"It's ok Cat." Ned said, resigned.

"Our son has just ridden out of the castle gates without so much as a goodbye with a handful of men and that's ok?" She asked. Ned just nodded. "What is he doing?"

Ned sighed once more and stared out to where the horses were thundering away towards the Wintertown heading Eastwards. "He's going to secure Roose Bolton's loyalty." Ned told her. "He's going to kill Ramsay Snow."

* * *

**And there we are, after fretting with Mira that he had forgotten something Torrhen has truly remembered that Ramsay wanted to kill Domeric and knows that he needs to stop it, so he and a group have gone to try and stop just that. Of course, not everyone will be happy at this, least of all Cat.**

**Jon also had a bit of an argument with Ned. I couldn't really get that right in all my drafts but the gist of it is there, Ned refusing to tell Jon about his mother because he doesn't feel Jon is ready for the truth and Jon getting angry about it. Jon will get over the anger and try to prove himself in the future don't worry.**

**Cregan Glenmore is still young here and is a little intimidated by women, but I'm sure that will change at some point.**

**If you have any comments but want to know before the next chapter then my PM box is always monitored, otherwise I appreciate your reviews.**

**Reviews:**

**DarylDixon'sLover: It's certainly preferable to the show's ending for him in my opinion.**

**RiaChan: He's got a way to go, but this is a big kick up the bum for him.**

**Sparky She-Demon: Torrhen will certainly try and do something about Ramsay.**

**RevanKnight25: Maybe!**

**Patriot-112: All Valyrian weapons would have been lost in the Doom, unless the Targaryen's saved anything but going by Fire and Blood they didn't have anything like that.**

**Lightningscar: Your reviews are always good! **


	13. The Bastard of Bolton

**We're getting closer to involving the South now I promise! But for now, how about we check in with our resident Northern sadist?**

**If you haven't seen, there's rumours of a Targaryen Anthology show which I can only say I am ABSOLUTELY HYPED FOR! Fire and Blood is an incredible book, and any adaption of that material over a number of seasons is very, very welcome to my screens.**

**But for now, I hope you all enjoy this chapter as we break the 50,000 words barrier! **

**I own nothing but Torrhen.**

* * *

They rode hard on that first day and didn't stop for more than a few minutes until they were along the banks of the White Knife river. Torrhen had managed to gather a handful of other, more threatening looking people to ride with him. Daryn Hornwood had brought two of his guard and Arthur Glenmore, Cregan's older brother, had brought an extra man from his own archer unit.

They hastily made camp under the stars, and Torrhen must have only managed a couple of hours sleep before he was shaken awake. "Lord Torrhen." Daryn Hornwood whispered.

"What?" Torrhen asked groggily.

"We've an intruder." Hornwood whispered. Fearing the worst, Torrhen immediately reached for Winter's Bite, an action that Daryn noticed. "Not a threat though, not yet anyway."

That didn't stop Torrhen from being cautious however, as he picked up the Valyrian Steel blade and unsheathed it. Getting up, he followed Daryn to the edge of the quickly built camp, where both of Daryn's men had their spears pointed warningly at a shadowy figure, who had some form of hood covering his face.

"Slowly take off your hood." Torrhen said firmly. He had the body of a twelve-year-old and was still surprised when these older men followed his commands, but the man did as he was asked. It was Domeric Bolton. "Lord Domeric?"

"I was told what you were doing." Bolton stated coldly. "I had to try and stop you."

Daryn Hornwood knew what the Bastard of Bolton was like, his Father's lands bordering Bolton ones. "He's a monster." The Hornwood heir laughed.

"In your opinion." Domeric said quickly. "But he is also my brother."

"That isn't a statement you should be proud of." Torrhen told him. "I'm sure you've heard the stories…"

"I've heard rumours." Domeric nodded. "I've been warned by my own Father, but tell me, Lord Torrhen. If you had a secret brother that you'd only heard about, would you not wish to meet him too?"

That stumped Torrhen, as he knew that he would. "Domeric, he wants you dead. I've seen it." He tried to use his mystic reputation to his benefit. Dom was far too clever for that to work, however.

"Spare me, Lord Torrhen." He said, keeping his courtesies. He looked around and saw that none of the men in Torrhen's group were going to agree with him. "At least offer me the chance of meeting him. Surely I deserve that much."

Torrhen stared the Bolton heir down and couldn't see any form of lies in his words or movements. Still, while he had vowed never to trust a Bolton fully, he also knew that he deserved to see Ramsay for the man he truly was. Nodding his head, the two Hornwood guards dropped their spears. "You may come with us to meet him and see how sadistic he really is, but I'll warn you Bolton, we are under orders from Lord Stark himself to deal with him. Don't get in the way."

* * *

Meanwhile, in Winterfell, Catelyn Stark was at a loss. Her 12-year-old son was gods know where to bring justice, her eldest son was due to be married in a weeks' time and Arya was out there training with weapons. The Tully found herself watching Arya train from the balcony that overlooked the archery yard as she received tips from Torrhen's friend Cregan Glenmore.

Swords were clashing in the courtyard beside them too, and Cat noticed Robb speaking with his new betrothed while watching. That brought a smile to her face, although that smile fell quickly when she realised that Jon Snow was in the middle, seemingly giving everything he had in a bout with Theon Greyjoy. That was another thing on her mind, she had forgiven Ned for the revelation, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to speak with the boy himself. She decided to go and get it over with there and then however, especially after seeing how miserable Ned had been at having to withhold the truth from the boy.

Once the bout had finished and the group broke for the day Cat walked down to the courtyard. She said hello to the smallfolk that bowed to her and had a brief conversation with Ser Rodrik, but eventually she was stood behind Jon as he put the blunted blades away. "Jon." She called, forcing herself to go through with it.

Jon was surprised at the voice, and even more surprised at who it came from. He turned around quickly and stared at his feet. "Lady Stark."

She stared at him and saw so much of Ned. The awkwardness, the shy demeanour, and she felt even more guilty about her past. "You fought well." Was all she could say.

That surprised Jon even more. "Urm. Thank you, My Lady."

"You seemed very determined." Cat nodded. "I suppose it has something to do with what you discussed with Lord Stark?"

Jon felt betrayed and she could see it. "My talk with Lord Stark…" He began.

"I understand why you feel that way." Cat told him. "I have been cruel to you. I've been a monster towards you because you are not mine, and that isn't fair." She sighed heavily. "I'm truly sorry, Jon."

Jon was speechless. "I… you haven't been…"

"Spare me." Cat almost laughed. "I've been horrid, and I swear to all the Gods I will be better. It's no excuse, but I'm still learning about the North even now. When I was growing up, we'd hear all these stories about natural children being devious and wicked, doing their all for power. I saw you and made a judgement that was wrong."

It was wrong, and Jon looked insulted. "I would never try to usurp Robb." He said in a rare moment of defiance. "He is my Brother and the future Lord of Winterfell, and I have no desire to usurp him."

"I know that now." She insisted. "And he knows that to, more than anyone I imagine. Which is why going to the Wall would be a mistake for you." Jon wasn't responding, and he just stared at her, unsure of what to make of this. "If you desperately want to join the Night's Watch then like your Uncle Benjen, nobody can stop you. If you are only doing it because you think you would be out of my way, then I'm asking… no I'm imploring you, don't go. Robb needs good, loyal men around him and I'm not sure there are any more loyal to him than you are."

Jon was freaked at the nice things that she was saying. "I'll forever be the Bastard of Winterfell here." He spoke bitterly. "Bastards can rise high in the Night's Watch."

'_If only you knew…_' Cat thought, but it wasn't her secret to tell. "Not all Bastards have the blood of Brandon the Builder in them." She told him. "I can never tell you what to do, I lost that right the moment I treated you with nothing but scorn, but I know that you have great things ahead of you, and the Watch is not the right place for you to realise them."

She waited for any response, but Jon was shocked into silence at the praise. She bowed her head in a parting and walked away towards the Sept. She desperately needed to pray for guidance.

* * *

It took two more days for Torrhen's party to reach the Weeping Water, and it would have taken them even longer had Domeric not already known where Ramsay's mill was located. They made camp about half a mile along the banks early in the day, and Torrhen took Domeric to scout out the mill while the other men waited a few minutes away, ready to strike.

It was a normal, Northern mill, and the fact that nothing looked out of the ordinary unnerved Torrhen. Lying down in a row of hedges, the Stark and Bolton unlikely duo waited.

They were there for around 10 minutes before the door to the mill opened. Torrhen's eyes narrowed at the sight of Ramsay Snow, a low growl escaping his lips as he kissed an older woman on the cheek before making his way over to a kennel.

"He's sadistic." Domeric repeated Torrhen's earlier words.

Torrhen hadn't kept his eyes away from Ramsay though, and when they could see into the kennels Torrhen nodded in the direction. "See."

Through the open door the pair could see that there was a young woman tied up, gagged and naked hanging from the ceiling, and a man asleep near her feet. Ramsay kicked the man until he awoke, but Torrhen couldn't hear the words over the barking of the dogs.

"He does this." Torrhen whispered to a shocked Domeric. "He'll charm the women into his bed before growing bored with them. Then he'll let them escape before chasing them with his hounds."

Domeric looked ill." You're lying."

Torrhen just shook his head. "I honestly wish I was."

"Father warned me…" Dom whispered to himself. They watched on as Ramsay got a blade and taunted the woman for a moment, before cutting her down. Immediately the girl bolted from the barn, sprinting away Southwards down the bank of the Weeping Water. "He let her go?"

Torrhen shook his head sadly. "He's about to hunt her with his pet."

"Then we need to stop him." Domeric put his hand on his sword belt. "That's my Father's subject."

"We can't save her." Torrhen insisted, and right on queue the pair of dogs began racing after the girl, closely followed by Ramsay and the other man, who Torrhen guessed was Reek. "We can make sure that he never does this again however."

"We're letting her die?" Domeric asked aghast.

"We're letting him play out his own downfall." Torrhen said sharply. "You saw him leave the mill, there's only one person he cares for. He's a hunter and he doesn't take insults well, we take her and he'll come to us."

With that Torrhen got to his feet and gathered the rest of his men before walking up to the mill, weapons in hand. Torrhen took a deep breath, and then nodded.

Daryn Hornwood was the largest of them, and he kicked the door in fiercely. They all piled into to the small living area where Ramsay's mother was sat stitching some rags. She looked over in horror and immediately went for some form of long weapon, but Arthur Glenmore loosed an arrow into the wall beside her, stopping her in her tracks.

"You're coming with us." Daryn Hornwood growled as his men moved to restrain the woman. Her eyes however were solely on Domeric, and as she was dragged past, she spat directly in the Bolton heir's face.

It was done in an instant, but Torrhen wasn't satisfied with just the capture. As the others made their way outside Torrhen put the rags on the spear that she had been reaching for and held them in the fireplace until they aflame. Dropping the rags in the corner, he waited until the fire had latched onto the wood before leaving the building, never even looking back at the soon blazing structure.

* * *

Torrhen's group immediately packed up camp and moved towards the Hornwood. They found an abandoned tower towards the northern part of the forest and set up there, having left enough of a trail behind to ensure that the Bastard of the Dreadfort would follow them. Follow them he did, and two days into Torrhen's group luring Ramsay towards them, he struck.

One of Daryn Hornwood's men was guarding the entrance to the grove the tower stood in, and the first sign of trouble that the group noticed was an arrow puncturing through his eye socket, followed by dogs barking rapidly in the distance.

"COVER!" Daryn screamed, as he flipped over the table and ducked behind it with his other guard. Torrhen was inside the tower at the shout and swore loudly, picking up his bow and racing upstairs to where Arthur Glenmore was keeping watch. The archer had an arrow nocked and ready.

"He's in the trees." Arthur told him. "Nock up."

Torrhen did as he was told, allowing the superior bowman to direct him. Keeping a tight hold on the string, he pointed the arrow out from the crenel of the tower. They stayed in silence for a moment, waiting for something to appear.

The first thing to come racing out towards them were the hounds. Huge black beasts foaming at the mouth leaped over Daryn's fallen man towards the tower. "You take the left one!" Arthur cried. Torrhen didn't waste a second as he adjusted his aim and released his arrow, sending it flying into the hound's neck, dropping it. The other dog soon died too, as Arthur hit his target before nocking another arrow with speed.

"You'll pay for that!" A voice came from the trees. "And for kidnapping a helpless woman!"

"Just as you will pay for your many crimes, Snow!" Torrhen shouted back. He ducked behind the merlon just as an arrow came racing out of the treeline and passed him. "Shit!" He whispered.

"I got him." Arthur said quietly. He released his arrow, and a cry was heard.

That was the cue. Daryn and his last guard raced out from their defensive position towards the treeline. The guard was killed by an arrow to the chest, but there was no time for a reload as Daryn reached Ramsay Snow and Reek. He quickly disarmed them both by breaking their bows in half with his longsword, and he thrust a heavy fist into Ramsay's face, making the bastard see stars. Reek then found himself a knife and screamed, only to be met with the butt of Daryn's blade.

"Ramsay stop!" Domeric screamed from back by the tower. All eyes flew to him, as he stepped out of the structure, holding a long dagger to Ramsay's mother's neck. "Surrender now, or she dies with you."

"Don't listen to him!" She screamed. "YOU are the rightful heir, not him!" Domeric yanked her hair back forcibly, making her yelp as her neck became more exposed.

Torrhen had made his way down the tower as this was going on, discarding his bow for Winter's Bite. He stepped out of the tower as Ramsay was being dragged by his shirt by Daryn, and the bastard was unceremoniously thrown to the floor. He had blood running from his lips, but he looked up at Domeric grinning. "Hello brother."

"Yes." Dom said. "I am your brother. We can be brothers if you'd let us."

"Domeric…" Torrhen began, but he was silenced by a glare.

Ramsay barked out a laugh. "Yes _Domeric_." He teased. "Listen to your Stark master. You're not fit to be Father's heir. You're weak."

"And you're a bastard." Torrhen said firmly, knowing that that would rile him up. "You can't inherit anything."

Ramsay glared. "You're a child." He noted. "Who are you to tell me what I can do?"

"He is Torrhen, of House Stark." Daryn Hornwood said from behind Ramsay. "And the son of your Lord Paramount."

"When I'm Lord of the Dreadfort I'll have all your pink wolf pelts." Ramsay spat on the ground.

"That's not how we do things." Domeric said sharply, before Daryn could assault the bastard again.

"Flay them all!" The woman screamed, and Domeric yanked again, pressing the blade closer to her throat.

"Surrender now and come and join me at the Dreadfort." Dom pleaded. "We can help you; we can be a family."

Ramsay stared at Domeric, tilting his head in a way that made Torrhen want to shiver. "And why would I need a family?" He asked. "When I could get rid of you and be the undisputed heir."

Pandemonium broke out then. Reek had awoken from the trees and drew his sword, a move spotted by Arthur up at the top of the tower. Arthur's arrow flew at pace and punctured Reek in the throat. At the sound of the arrow Ramsay had reached into his boot and driven his knife into Daryn's leg. The Hornwood heir screamed, backhanding Ramsay back onto the ground. Domeric, shaken from the confession that Ramsay wanted him dead, slid his blade across Ramsay's mother's throat and then stood there, arms at his side in a frozen state as she dropped to the floor. Ramsay, enraged, rushed up towards the mourning Domeric with his arms out ready to strangle, screaming like a madman. He didn't reach his target however, as Winter's Bite was buried deep into the bastard's stomach.

Torrhen quickly withdrew the blade, having stepped across Domeric to save the Bolton heir. He kicked out at Ramsay sending him sprawling to the floor. Not giving him a chance to say or do anything, Torrhen looked down at him with hatred in his eyes. "In the name of Eddard of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. I, Torrhen of House Stark, Lord of Moat Cailin and Protector of the Causeway do sentence you to die." He swung downwards, and the Valyrian Steel cut cleanly through Ramsay's neck, his head bouncing away a couple of times before it stopped.

Torrhen's first ever kill had been a pimply faced boy wearing the sigil of House Lefford in the Whispering Wood just before his Father's death in his other life. He had forgotten the boys face long ago save for tiny details, but the screams had stayed with him until this day. The Stark knew that he would remember this kill though, as Ramsay's body slumped to the ground detached from his head. He wouldn't feel remorse, regret, guilt, or any of the other emotions that men felt after their first kills however, no Torrhen knew that would cherish this memory until the day he died.

* * *

**Ramsay had to die so that Domeric may live. Death MUST pay for life, and Ramsay is most definitely now dead.**

**The tower is meant to be my own version of the one where in the books he locks Donella Hornwood up in.**

**In other news, Cat is trying to fix it with Jon, but it will take time. Robb is also getting on with Wylla, I was going to have a scene with them two in but I couldn't really make it right, so I added it as a brief comment.**

**Next chapter is the last before a bit of a time jump after which we'll see what's happening in King's Landing, but before I get ahead of myself, there's a wedding to be had!**

**Reviews:**

**daspeedforce: Ned just isn't ready for Jon to take his birth right yet. Until Jon knows the truth, Ned has to treat him as a bastard for pretence hence the 'you're not owed anything' stuff. Ned knows that Jon belongs on the Iron Throne, but he also keeps his vows and at the time of the Rebellion Robert was literally the best choice available. He was a strong warrior leader that had the respect of pretty much everyone in the realm before the rebellion. Ned will tell Jon the truth eventually, but with everything going on Ned needs it to be at the right time, for him, Jon and the rest of Westeros.**

**Dzerx: He will do!**

**ZabuzasGirl: I hope you enjoyed how he died then!**

**10868letsgo: Domeric needed to understand the monster that Ramsay was, and now that he does, I don't think House Stark will have a more important ally.**

**C.E.W: Cregan is still too young, Torrhen only went as he is Torrhen. You make a wonderful point about Jon actually, and you've changed my thoughts on the scene that he had in this chapter.**

**Hear My Fury: Thanks for the tips, they helped!**

**Seraph: Cat is also Torrhen's mother, and Torrhen will do everything possible to save all of his family. **

**Lord Villarreal of house Grand: Somebody already does, that will be revealed in chapter 17 and the death in that case has a major impact on the politics of Westeros (I've already hinted at that in Chapter 2!) Two will be revealed in Chapter 27, and then one in Chapter 42.**

**Bad Ass Female Fighter: Not quite as gruesome as the last time, but yes, he would die for Sansa.**

**Heritage: I think Ned wanted to wait until Jon had sworn his vows and abdicated all potential titles, and that was why he told Jon 'the next time I see you'. I think there's lots we don't know about why Rhaegar and Lyanna ran off and stayed hidden, because even in the books Ned doesn't hate them, he only looks back on that time with regret. As for wanting Jon as King, I don't think that properly crossed his mind. All he wanted was his nephew to be safe from harm, and Robert was his greatest threat if he knew the truth.**

**Patriot-112: I'll always have a think about reviewer requests, and as shown in this chapter I'll even adapt the story if I believe it fits with the lore and the future plot.**

**ayienne: Honestly the other one isn't a great miss, you got all the important parts recapped here I believe, and while some things may be worth reading from Rises you've already read the important chapter and the reason this fic exists. Torrhen won't care for the Whitehills (a minor plot from the last story, but he's firmly in the Forrester camp) and because they're vassals of the Bolton's he'll expect them to fall in line as Roose does. The Dustin's will play a role in Robb's arc. They'll stay united because of Ned. Even those that didn't love him respected him and it's not a coincidence that the entire North fractured when Ned died.**

**Lightningscar: Not many readers care about Mira but I like her character and she's the right age, and it gave me something to make Torrhen be an angsty teenager about in the last story! I originally had Torrhen running into Roose but changed it as I think Ned testing Roose was a better read. It doesn't make you a bad person! I just have more plans for Domeric this time around so for that to happen Ramsay needed to die.**


	14. Letting Go of the Past

**The last chapter of my solely Northern part of the story, and it's a bit happier than my usual writing! I hope you all enjoy it.**

**I own nothing but Torrhen Stark, although if HBO would like to sell me the rights for £3.27 then I'll happily have a chat with them.**

* * *

Winterfell was abuzz with wedding fever. It was only two days until Robb and Wylla Manderly swore their vows in front of the Winterfell Weirwood tree and Ned had locked himself in his solar to give himself a minute to breathe. Cat was rushing about the place ensuring that everything was just right for the ceremony and the feast afterwards, and Ned was eternally grateful for her.

He sat reading a letter from King's Landing congratulating Robb on his nuptials and Ned smiled sadly at his mentor Jon Arryn's words. The end of the year was fast approaching, meaning he had just over a year to try and save both Jon Arryn and Robert from their deaths. Sighing, he took his mug of ale and took a long sip.

There was a pounding at the door. "Lord Stark! Lord Stark!" Jory Cassel's voice called. Ned bid him to enter, and Jory walked in slightly breathlessly. "Banners from the East. The drawn bow and arrow of House Glenmore, the moose head of House Hornwood, the flayed man of House Bolton and…"

"The black Direwolf of Torrhen." Ned surmised. "He's back."

Jory nodded. "Aye, Lord Stark."

"Very well. Go and fetch Sansa, she will want to see him." Ned instructed. Jory bowed and fled the room with speed, leaving Ned to quickly grab his cloak and fasten it before he made his way out to the courtyard.

It had quickly filled up. Lords Umber and Karstark were there, as was Barbrey Dustin. Mira and Ethan Forrester were over to one side chatting, but Ned noticed that both of their eyes were looking over towards the gates. Roose Bolton had disappeared somewhere, but if Torrhen had completed his mission then Ned didn't blame the Lord of the Dreadfort for not being there to greet his bastard's killer. Robb was stood with Lord Manderly, and Ned found himself grateful that his son had integrated himself with the Manderly's so quickly.

Sansa came running towards him then, breaking him out of his thoughts. "Is it true? Are they back?" She asked excitedly.

"So I am told." Ned smiled down at her. Sansa grinned, but stood formally beside him. Bran came running too, and Ned quickly pulled him over to stand on his other side before the gates were called to be opened.

The old gates creaked as they moved, and after only a moment in came Torrhen's riding party, two short of the number they left with, Ned thought quickly. At the front of the group rode Torrhen, who gave off the aura of a battle-hardened leader once more, not just a twelve-year-old boy. Torrhen dismounted first, and immediately moved over to kneel before Ned, the rest of his group doing similar.

"Rise." Ned told them, and they did.

"Father. It is done." Torrhen said grimly. "The Bastard of Bolton was caught tormenting and murdering a helpless woman for sport, and he was executed by my hand. I bring you his head to serve as a reminder the punishment for breaking both your laws and the King's peace."

Daryn Hornwood limped forwards and threw the head on the ground. Sansa shrieked beside Ned, but thankfully that was the only reaction. Ned looked at the tarred head and felt anger rise, before relief filled him at the thought that this monster can no longer commit any of the atrocities he had committed in Torrhen's other life. "You have all done the North a great service." Ned told them. "You all have the hospitality of Winterfell for as long as you require. I'm sure you all need baths and food, that shall be seen to."

"Thank you, Lord Stark." Most of the men replied, only Torrhen and Domeric didn't. The courtyard began to empty, murmurings about Ramsay Snow coming from all corners. Domeric Bolton went immediately to his aunt, and Torrhen stayed behind.

"His mother is dead to." Torrhen told him. "Domeric himself did that. She was mad, Father. I was thinking about it on the road, no wonder he turned out how he did."

"Our upbringing strengthens our character, Torrhen, it doesn't always form it." Ned told Torrhen. "You have done well."

Torrhen smiled, nodding his thanks. He turned to Bran, who was just staring down at the head. "Are you ok, little brother?"

Bran was shaken out of his thoughts and looked up at Torrhen. He nodded. "Yes."

Ned noticed the exchange and put his arm around Bran's shoulders. "Come, walk with me Bran. Let us give Sansa and Torrhen a moment to reunite." Torrhen nodded his thanks and walked away with Sansa. "Somebody place this head on a spike." Ned called out, before leading his thirdborn son away to have a talk with him about Northern justice.

* * *

Torrhen and Sansa quickly made their way to his room where a warm bath had been drawn for him. Sansa averted her eyes as Torrhen got himself undressed and into the warm water and sat herself down on his bed as he relaxed. She couldn't escape the image of that severed head though and needed to bring it up. "What was it like?" She asked.

"What was what like?" Torrhen asked back.

"Killing a man."

Torrhen sat slightly more upright and looked over at his twin. "Do you really want to know?"

Sansa thought for a moment and nodded. "Seeing that head… it truly scared me. I can't imagine myself what it must have been like for you to actually swing the sword."

Torrhen felt bad that Sansa had been there but knew that this was the perfect moment to shatter her illusions about the world. "He was an evil man, Sansa. We found him with a woman tied up in the kennels as naked as her name day. I dread to think the things that he did to her before we got there, but afterwards was bad enough. He let her run away and then chased her with his hounds."

Sansa gasped, her eyes were wide in horror and her hands covered her mouth. "That's barbaric." She whispered.

"His Mother had filled him with a dream that he was the true Lord to the Dreadfort." Torrhen explained. "He wanted to kill Domeric, to kill Roose once he was confirmed as heir and he likely would have tried to kill you too for being betrothed to Dom. So to actually answer your question, it was easy. I was protecting you."

Sansa's heart almost melted at that. "Tor…"

"I won't always be around to protect you." Torrhen interrupted. "But until you become the Lady of the Dreadfort and can command enough loyalty to protect yourself, I will do all I can to keep you safe Sansa."

"Lady of the Dreadfort." Sansa sighed. "What if people there hate me."

Torrhen shook his head. "The more you wonder on what people think, the less they will respect you. You are a Stark of Winterfell and you'll be going to a harsh castle. Seeing heads not attached to their bodies cannot scare you, I fear you'll see a lot of them once you marry and move."

"I didn't want to be scared." Sansa said, slightly defiantly. "But the eyes… They stared at me."

"The dead have that affect on people." Torrhen said grimly, thinking about the wights. "War is coming, Sansa. The world is a cruel place outside of our bubble and will only get crueller. All those songs you believe in about the South, they're all lies to make them feel better about everything. But Winter is coming, and with it comes death."

He could see Sansa was fighting against his words, but her eyes told Torrhen the whole story. Her eyes had been opened, her thoughts would move away from the songs and the splendour towards the reality of the world. All without her seeing their Father's head removed from his body. Settling into a grim sense of satisfaction with himself, Torrhen closed his eyes and rested in the steaming water.

* * *

Domeric Bolton tried to get out of the courtyard as quickly as he could, his mind tormented as to why he had kept offering his evil brother a chance. He knew as soon as he saw the hounds chasing that poor girl that Ramsay needed to die, yet with Ramsay's mother at knifepoint he kept offering him a chance to redeem himself, only to be threatened once more.

Domeric was also amazed at the young Stark that had led the party. Not knowing why, Domeric truly felt a willingness to follow the twin of his betrothed and ignoring everything to do with Ramsay the pair actually got on.

He told Roose that after finding his Father and explaining everything in detail as to what had gone on, and Roose actually seemed pleased. "Integrating yourself with Sansa's twin is excellent. I understand the circumstances were… difficult. But Torrhen Stark is likely the best person to be friendly with in order to have a good marriage."

"He's still years younger than me Father." The 19-year-old said.

"That won't matter at all once he becomes a man." Roose reminded him. "We have an opportunity here now, Domeric. By sacrificing the monster, we have proclaimed to Ned Stark that we are loyal subjects. This marriage to his daughter could be the making of us as a House."

Dom lowered his head. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you."

Roose shook his head, patting his son on the shoulder. "I should have told you truly. His mother was unhinged, partly my fault for raping her underneath her hanging husband's corpse, but I should have brought the babe in with us and raised him as a Bolton rather than let him loose."

Domeric bit back the bile that was forming at Roose's confession. "I don't even think that would have worked, Father."

"It did ok for Ned Stark's bastard." Roose commented bitterly, before he shook his head. "Anyhow, we are in a good spot. When we march Southwards, we will give the Stark's no questions about our loyalty. This alliance grants us more power than we have held since the days of the Red King's, and I will not loosen the grip on it. Do your duty to this girl, make her fall in love with you and befriend her brothers, and we shall be in an enviable position."

* * *

After settling back into life at Winterfell, it was quickly the evening of Robb and Wylla's wedding. Torrhen wore his finest grey shirt and black trousers, topping it all off with the most expensive pair of boots he's ever worn and a warm, black wolfskin cloak. Feeling good about himself, he began walking from his room to the Godswood, where all the guests were gathering. He didn't get very far though, as when he passed Robb's room he was called inside.

Robb was there, sat on his bed looking extremely nervous. "Are you alright?" Torrhen asked.

Robb laughed in surprise. "Am I alright?" He repeated. "Are you?"

"Me? Why wouldn't I be?" Torrhen asked.

"She's your wife." Robb muttered. Torrhen understood at that moment.

He walked inside and sat down on the bed beside his elder brother. "No, she isn't." Torrhen insisted. "That time… that woman. That isn't the girl you've gotten to know."

Robb looked at Torrhen. "You truly don't think of her as the same person?"

Torrhen smiled, gripping Robb on the shoulder. "My wife had green hair, an utter hatred for the Lannisters after they murdered her uncle and her King and was disappointed daily by her husband. Your wife will have a good husband, a loving family around her of both Manderly and Stark. She is as different from my Wylla as fire and ice are."

"But you had a child." Robb countered.

Torrhen sighed, the reminder painful. "And I will always miss him. Not a day goes by where I don't wish I could know him, to see him grow up in a safe Kingdom. But he is safe because of my sacrifice and now I get to live a life that I truly want. Where you and Father live for many years in happiness, where I can actually love my wife rather than pine for a girl that was four years dead."

Robb smiled a bit, feeling better. "I just felt that knowing your history with her, something would be nagging me in the back of my mind all the time I'm wed to her."

Torrhen shook his head. "I feel nothing for this girl you are about to wed Robb. Truly, I don't."

"Good." Robb admitted. "Because I really do like her." He sighed dreamily. "She's smart, she's fierce. She'll make a wonderful Lady of Winterfell."

Torrhen nodded, standing up. He held his arm out to his brother. "Then let us go and wed you to her."

Robb grinned, taking Torrhen's arm and hoisting himself up, both brothers leaving the room in good spirits.

* * *

The moon was shining as the pair of Starks raced into the Godswood. Most of the guests were there already and Cat gave them both a sharp look as they got closer to the Weirwood tree. Torrhen joined most of his family in the front row of the audience as Robb took his place by the tree. He stood in between Sansa and Cat with Bran, Rickon and Benjen Stark all in the front line, and his twin leaned in towards him and handed him his lantern. "Robb's late." She whispered.

"He's fine now." He whispered back, telling her everything with that.

They waited for a few moments before most of the guests turned around. Torrhen couldn't see as the Umber party was in his line of sight, but slowly, Wylla Manderly was led by her Grandfather, Lord Wyman, down the path towards the Weirwood tree, stopping a few paces away from Ned and Robb.

"Who comes before the Old Gods this night?" Ned asked, disturbing the silence of the Godswood.

Wyman Manderly cleared his throat before answering. "Wylla, of the House Manderly, comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the Gods." Wyman followed the Faith of the Seven and had clearly been practicing the lines of the Old Gods ceremony. "Who comes to claim her?"

Robb stepped towards his bride, his eyes never leaving her own. "Robb, of the House Stark. Heir to Winterfell. Who gives her?" He asked.

"Wyman, of the House Manderly." Wyman boasted proudly. "Lord of White Harbour, Warden of the White Knife, Shield of the Faith, Defender of the Dispossessed, Lord Marshal of the Mander and a Knight of the Order of the Green Hand. Lady Wylla's Grandfather."

Torrhen almost scoffed. Wyman hadn't been the one to give Wylla away at his wedding and so this was the first time he had heard the full titles of the Lord of White Harbour, most of which related to their Reach origins and were defunct. He kept quiet though so as to not disrupt the ceremony and watched on as Ned continued the ceremony. "Lady Wylla, will you take this man?"

Wylla Manderly stepped forwards, her blonde hair illuminated in the moonlight and covering the top half of her turquoise House cloak. She looked up at him, her green eyes staring into his blue ones, and said. "I take this man."

Ned smiled down at them both. "Then join hands and kneel before the Heart Tree, and let the Old Gods bless your union." He told them. Robb took Wylla's hand and they did as they were told, kneeling before the tree and allowing Robb a chance to make his prayers. They soon rose, and Robb moved around to unclasp Wylla's Manderly cloak, handing it over to her Grandfather before receiving a Stark one, the same one that Ned had cloaked Catelyn in so many years ago, and placing it over Wylla's shoulders.

"Now kiss your bride and seal your union." Ned instructed. Robb did so dutifully, gently placing his lips on his new wife's, and just as quickly he parted from her. Robb took Wylla's hand then and led her back towards the castle down the illuminated path, where a feast had been prepared. Ned and Wyman followed them, as did the rest of the wedding party one by one.

* * *

The laughter was deafening. The feast was in full flow and many of the men were already drunk. Lord Umber himself, Torrhen thought, had stuck to wine rather than the food on offer, and had seemingly been bored by the bard singing the love song 'Two Hearts that beat as One' and from his table started bellowing out 'The Lusty Lad'. The bard himself was quite offended and left the room, but the Northerner's didn't care, laughing at the Southern bard as he went and joining in with the awful singing, with the Smalljon dragging his wife into the middle of the room to start dancing.

Torrhen himself was sat at his table beside Arya now, as Sansa had been asked to dance already by Domeric. He spotted Mira looking over at him and was about to get up when a hand graced his shoulder and Ned sat down beside him. "Arya, go and dance with your Uncle Benjen." He said.

"Do I have to?" The girl complained.

"Now." Ned said pointedly. Arya groaned and got off of the bench, making for the First Ranger of the Night's Watch. "I need to talk to you about something important."

"Right now?" Torrhen asked.

Ned just nodded. "Once the guests have left and we are making progress enough on the port town on the Stoney Shore I want us to head down to King's Landing."

That sobered Torrhen up a little bit. "So soon?"

"Aye." Ned nodded again. "But I also want Moat Cailin to start it's reconstruction as soon as possible. So, after your 13th name day I want you to spend one month there, and one month here."

Torrhen was surprised. "Am I ready?"

Ned just laughed, the wine getting to his head a little to. "Torrhen, you still have the mind of a King. Your body may be smaller, but you are more ready than any other. I have faith in you."

That humbled Torrhen. "Thank you, Father."

"Your household will be put in place, and together with Lord Manderly we have the workers for you." Ned continued. "But while you'll have a regent for propriety, likely Daryn Hornwood as you got on so well, you are the Lord of Moat Cailin now. Nothing will be agreed without your go ahead."

"Father… thank you." Torrhen said honestly.

Ned clapped Torrhen on the back. "Without you, none of this would be happening and we may be heading to our doom. Thank you." Ned left it there and looked pointedly over at the Forrester table. "Go and dance, I think the Greatjon is about to break into his favourite song…"

Torrhen laughed and got up from the bench, dodging an eager Theon who had Wynafred Manderly by the hand as they went to the dancefloor. He stopped in front of Mira. "Care to dance, My Lady."

Mira grinned. "It took you long enough." She said, rising and taking Torrhen's hand. Ned had been right, Lord Umber had gotten Cregan Glenmore to start playing his lute to the tune of 'The Bear and the Maiden Fair' and almost the entire Great Hall seemed to have risen towards the middle, separating into male and female lines as the Northern dance dictated.

Torrhen was grateful that his Mother had instructed him to have dancing lessons as a child, as he performed all the rowdy steps admirably, and he grinned as he danced in tandem with Mira, even managing to lift her up when required. More Northern songs followed the Greatjon's version of 'The Bear and the Maiden Fair', as he deftly added 'Iron Lances', 'The Winter Maid' and another song that Torrhen didn't even recognise. Tired out, he and Mira retired to his table, their hands clasped together as they watched Robb and Wylla dancing happily.

"That will be us soon." Torrhen said happily.

Mira smiled. "Not soon enough."

Torrhen turned to her. "I don't know when I'll be able to see you for a while now. Father wants me to start moving between here and Moat Cailin as we rebuild it."

Mira kept her smile as she stroked his cheek. "We've waited for so long, what's another year or so."

"I'll visit Ironrath when I can." Torrhen promised.

"LET'S BED THEM!" The Greatjon roared after he had inevitably run out of his repertoire of songs. Cregan Glenmore immediately began to play his lute again, playing 'The Queen took off her sandal, the King took off his crown'. A loud cheer went up, as the Greatjon bundled into the centre of the room and picked Wylla up, placing her deftly atop his shoulder. The women of the North all crowded Robb too, hounding him out the room. Wylla's sister Wynafred managed to grab his cloak just before the large crowd of people trying to tear the newly weds clothes off left the Great Hall, leaving only a handful of the guests, mainly family, that hadn't wanted to join in. Cregan then broke into 'Meggett was a merry maid' as the remaining people settled down into smaller conversations.

Torrhen was just deep in thought, happily holding on to Mira's hand. The time he'd spent back in his past had been a true eye opener to him, and while he knew he would still miss certain parts of his past, he vowed to himself with Mira at his side that he wouldn't let himself wallow in his past. In his mind he said a final farewell to Cregan, to his Wylla and to all the men and women that had fought alongside him in his final moments before he looked over at the girl to his right.

Leaning over he kissed her on the cheek, causing her to blush and to ask him. "What was that for?"

Torrhen just smiled. "It's time to put the past behind me." He told her. "It's time to look to the future, and what we can do with it."

* * *

**And there we have it, the North is united, alliances have been forged and it's time for Ned to look southwards in his planning. Next chapter we will bring in King's Landing, Robert Baratheon, Jon Arryn and the rest of the Small Council. We will also meet a brand-new Stark!**

**I hope you've enjoyed the chapter. Don't be shy about telling me what you thought of it! We'll break 200 reviews with this one which is an incredible feat, and please keep them coming!**

**Reviews:**

**Hear My Fury: It's an idea taken from canon, and I imagined the woman so unhinged that she'd scream it until she died.**

**Skrumpfy Stallion: Thanks again for pointing out the mistake. Domeric just wanted a brother, and while he knew what was about to happen, he still felt he needed to try and save him.**

**Sparky She-Demon: He isn't…**

**Freakdogsflare: He hadn't come to the Dreadfort yet so hadn't been taught the art.**

**10868letsgo: Thank you!**

**ABEBOABDU: I update whichever one grabs me at that moment in time. It may be this story; it may be the Golden Dragon, or it may be No Mercy.**

**Bella-swan11: Ned doesn't think that though, and honestly neither does Torrhen at the moment. Jon isn't ready and Ned swore oaths to Robert Baratheon.**

**Guest (Trust): He doesn't trust the Bolton's. Domeric may earn his trust, but Torrhen has been scarred by the betrayals from the Dreadfort.**


	15. King's Landing

**Again I've not got too much to say again in my intro, although I do want to shout out spectre4hire who reviewed Chapter 6 since the last chapter. If you haven't already check out their stories, they are incredible!**

**I own nothing but Torrhen.**

* * *

**299 AC**

It had been 8 months since Robb Stark's wedding, and Moat Cailin was already drastically different. Whereas before the ruin had had three crumbling towers, now there was just a simple main keep. The Northmen had decided to just knock the entire castle down, repurposing the stone of the towers to create a base for the castle and building the central keep to house Torrhen and his future family in. They had expanded the circumference of the castle as well, drying the bog out where they needed to and laying stone down to level it before beginning on the massive project of building 100-foot walls around the area, with 9 towers being placed equidistant around the walls. It would be a fortress when completed, but for now the only real defences were the wooden palisades and the humble stone keep.

Torrhen had settled in nicely, his own personal banner flying from the top of the keep and his household having been settled in as well. There was still a long way to go, but the motivation of the Northman to rebuild their strongest defence was of the like he had never seen.

The Stark stared out of his chambers window towards the North, having chosen this room specifically for the direction. The sun was starting to get lower in the sky, and he watched as a line of empty wagons departed up the Kingsroad to fetch more stones, bricks and other supplies. His attention was taken by a rap at the door. "Lord Stark?"

Torrhen groaned. "I've told you time and again, Pylos. Lord Stark is my Father."

The door opened, and the young Maester entered Torrhen's chambers. Pylos had originally been hand-picked for an assignment to Dragonstone to replace the old Maester there when he died, but as soon as Ned had written to the Citadel to request a Maester for the Moat, the Archmaesters had snapped up the opportunity to send him to serve a Stark. Torrhen liked Pylos though, he was extremely knowledgeable and a kind man as well. "Apologies, Lord Torrhen." He held out a sealed raven message. "A raven came from Winterfell."

Torrhen walked over and grabbed the raven message, snapping the seal and unfurling the parchment. His eyes scanned the words written down, and he nodded. "Go and tell Daryn that he is in full command of Moat Cailin for the time being. I'm to leave for White Harbour tonight."

Pylos bowed. "Very good, My Lord." And with that he left the room. Torrhen moved back to the window of his chambers and looked in the vague direction of Winterfell. He looked out into the mist of the North, determined that this trip to King's Landing wouldn't end in disaster.

* * *

Usually it would have to be something that enraged Robert Baratheon, King of the Seven Kingdoms, to bring him down into the Small Council chamber. For once however, he was beyond excited. Surrounded by two members of the Kingsguard the rather large man pushed open the doors, much to the surprise of his Small Council.

"Your Grace." Jon Arryn, the Warden of the East and Hand of the King, was surprised to see him and rose to his feet, closely followed by the other members of the council. "We weren't expecting you."

Robert just had a grin on his face and held a raven message out for them all to see the grey broken seal. "Ned's coming!"

"Lord Stark?" Varys, the spymaster, questioned.

Robert nodded. "He has written to say that he needs to talk to us all about something in person."

Jon Arryn thought about that. "He's written to us, yet his news is too secret to be sent by raven."

"This is most strange." Baelish commented.

"Strange?" Robert snorted the question. "Ned's coming! We'll have a tournament, show his frozen bones the wonders of the South!"

Stannis Baratheon wanted to groan. "Can we afford it?"

Robert waved that off. "You'll find a way I'm sure. But get it done." He began to walk away, just shaking his head amusedly and repeating. "Ned's coming here!"

Jon Arryn agreed with Baelish, however. "We have heard nothing from the North in months. Not a single whisper from any castle in the realm North of the Neck."

"Not even my little birds sing songs about the North." Varys said in his songful voice. "The most I have gotten is that travellers are being turned away from the Causeway and must travel to White Harbour where they are kept under watch."

"Has Lord Stark ever been this paranoid?" Pycelle asked them.

Jon shook his head. "No, never." He answered. He sighed, shaking his head. "Well we shall have to plan this tourney even though Ned will find it tacky and dull."

"I can borrow it from Tywin Lannister again." Baelish remarked. Jon shook his head though.

"No, we've been down that road far too often." He told Baelish. "Speak to Lord Tyrell. No doubt he will want to compete and defend his title. Ask him to lend us some coin."

"I'll write to him." Renly said, too quickly. "I'll persuade him that it is in his best interests." Baelish bowed his head deeply in acceptance.

Stannis read the note that Robert had left on the table as Renly was saying that, and then held it out to Jon. "Lord Eddard is bringing two of his sons."

Jon took the message and skimmed it with his aging eyes. "Torrhen and Brandon." He read. "Then we shall need an archery competition, young Torrhen Stark is quite the marksman I am told."

"And a melee." Baelish added. "The Northerners are fond of that brutish tradition."

Jon ran his hand over his balding head. "This is going to be expensive…" He mumbled. He looked around the room. "That's enough for one day, I believe."

The occupants of the room began to empty at the dismissal, save for Stannis Baratheon. The Lord of Dragonstone made sure that everyone was out of hearing range before he said quickly. "What of the matter that I discussed?"

Jon looked over sharply. "It's a treasonous accusation."

Stannis nodded. "And one I do not make lightly, Lord Hand. But I swear it, on my life Robert has no trueborn issue."

"We need proof, Lord Stannis." Jon sighed, his old age catching up to him. "I know Joffrey is difficult and the Princes and Princess look like their mother alone, but words alone cannot prove it."

Stannis nodded curtly. "I may have found a bastard, and you know about the one in the Vale."

"Mya." Jon was reminded. "One bastard isn't enough. Two will likely not be enough."

Stannis looked at the old man grimly. "Luckily Robert is a promiscuous man and will have many running around."

"Then find them." Jon said. Stannis bowed quickly and left the room, determined to prove his discovery.

* * *

For all the changes that Torrhen had seen, he was bemused to see one thing remain the same. The Lord of Moat Cailin stood upon the docks of White Harbour looking out at the ship that was due to take them to King's Landing and recognised it instantly. The bow of the brand-new ship was carved intricately into the Stark sigil, a Direwolf head with the fur being the same pattern as on the Stark banner. Ned found it impressive, but Torrhen just laughed.

"Frostfang." Lord Wyman announced proudly.

Torrhen grinned knowingly. "A fine name, Lord Wyman."

"Only the best for you, Lord Stark." Wyman bowed his head to Ned. "She is the fastest ship that we have ever built, so hopefully you won't be gone for too long."

Ned appreciated that. He hadn't left at the best time with Catelyn so pregnant, but the news that met him as they first entered White Harbour was that he had a new daughter that Cat had named Sara. Willing this all to be over, he took the first steps onto the brand-new ship.

Bran was overawed too, staring at the Direwolf on the front. "Are they all going to be like this?" He asked.

"No." Wyman admitted. "Most will be simpler, but I thought for our flagship, your flagship, we could try something a bit different."

Torrhen thought it was wonderful, but the amusement of a ship being the same as in his other time was still in his mind. He was the next one to step onto the ship as the Stark party began boarding.

Ned was being extremely cautious, and they had taken a healthy number of guards with them, with around 80 men in Stark armour piling onto the boat as well as a member of the Night's Watch that Torrhen didn't recognise. Bran was the last on, after being scolded by Ned for taking too long. Torrhen went straight for his cabin though, shutting the door and opening a chest that had been filled for him from Winterfell.

Septon Chayle had been hard at work scouring the extensive library for any mention of Obsidian and had found at least a dozen books that would be useful. Settling himself in for a long journey, Torrhen grabbed the first book titled 'Legends of the Long Night' and opened it up.

* * *

Benjen Stark stood atop the Wall staring outwards. The wind was howling around him, yet years of experience left him as unmoving as a statue. The woods looked quiet, and if he was being honest with himself Benjen was itching to get back out there.

His thoughts were interrupted by one of the newer recruits, Lord Royce's son Waymar Royce. "First Ranger." He greeted.

Benjen turned to the Valeman. "Ser Waymar." He returned.

"Lord Commander Mormont would like to see you." Waymar told him.

Benjen nodded. "I'll be down shortly."

Waymar stayed there though. "I'm to relieve your watch."

Benjen knew that he couldn't wait any longer then, and passed the younger man, bidding him farewell as he went. He entered the cage that would lower him to Castle Black and slammed the gate behind him, waiting for the creaking of the mechanics to begin bringing him down. It always seemed to take an age, but eventually the cage reached the bottom of the Wall and Benjen stepped out onto the wooden platform and made his way through the courtyard, staying out of the way of Ser Alliser Throne shouting at some helpless recruit.

Moments later he was sat inside the Lord Commander's solar sipping on ale. Mormont was sat by the fire scribbling out on parchment. "Royce seems to be eager." Mormont noted.

"Too eager." Benjen commented. "And arrogant to boot."

Mormont chuckled. "You were the same when we joined."

Benjen remembered. "The follies of youth." He chuckled. Moving on to business, Mormont handed Benjen the letter that he had just signed. "You're giving Greyguard to Ser Jaremy?"

"Aye." Mormont said. "He's one of our most experienced men, and with the number of new recruits we've had in the last year they'll need a firm hand."

Benjen couldn't disagree. In the last year since Ned's declaration there had been a steady stream of recruits from the Northern houses. Greybeards and young men just old enough mainly, but the Watch didn't care. It had been so much that Mormont had been able to reopen some of the disused castles, Greyguard to the west of them was already mainly rebuilt. "And Rimegate?" He asked about the other castle that the Watch had decided to rebuild to their east.

"It's close to Umber lands." Mormont acknowledged. "And old Whoresbane has been a strong presence since joining."

"A clever man." Benjen nodded, remembering the Greatjon's uncle had once been to the Citadel. "My goodsister always called him a hoary old brigand."

Mormont grinned. "I've known him for decades, and I'm thankful that he's agreed to join the Watch now." He admitted. "He's a fine leader of men, but Lady Catelyn isn't wrong."

Benjen chuckled too. "Where next?"

Mormont looked over a map of the Wall. "I wanted to avoid the Nightfort, but it's in the best location. Not until we're overflowing at all 5 other castles however."

"It'll be expensive to run." Benjen commented.

"Your brother promises me that we will have the gold we need to open all the castles." Mormont shrugged. "How he is going to pull that off I do not know."

Benjen didn't either, Ned had been extremely careful to not make mention of where this money was coming from. "Moat Cailin, Sea Dragon Point, the Gift… Ned is making expensive moves."

"And good ones, too." Mormont said firmly. "If he is right…"

"He is." Benjen said grimly. "I've seen them."

Mormont looked concerned. "Then we need all the help that we can get."

* * *

With Ned away and Catelyn predisposed, Robb had been almost reliant on Maester Luwin and his wife for guidance. Luckily the most important issue to deal with had been the movement of materials to go towards both Moat Cailin and Sea Dragon Point, the site of the new port town and castle on the west coast and that could be managed easily enough.

He spent most of his time at court, something that he had gotten used to in the last year or so as Ned had included Robb in a large part of what he did. Luwin went over every decision, but so far Robb was doing well, or so he thought. Still in the back of his mind though was a hint of doubt garnered from Torrhen's stories.

Putting that to one side however, Robb decided he should go and visit his Mother. She got tired easily now due to her bringing up the baby herself rather than handing her over to wet nurses, and so Wylla had taken on many of her duties to give Cat the time to spend with the baby.

He reached Cat's chambers and knocked on the door. "Mother, it's me."

"Come in, Robb." Came Cat's voice. He opened the door and saw Cat sat in her chair sewing, and Rickon sat on the bed looking over into the baby's crib. As soon as Rickon saw Robb he leapt up and ran across the bed, jumping off of it to be caught by his elder brother.

"Robb!" He exclaimed.

"Shhh." Cat hissed. "I've just got Sara to go to sleep."

Robb was chuckling silently as he places Rickon down. "Apologies Mother."

"How was court?" She asked.

Robb shrugged, sitting down on the bed and stroking his new sister's cheek. She had Sansa's auburn hair and blue eyes. "Hullen needed more food for the horses, Septon Chayle wants an assistant with the Library. A standard day."

"Sitting there must be boring." Rickon complained. "You can't do anything fun!"

Robb grinned. "You'll have to do it one day."

"No!" Rickon grinned right back. "I'll be a knight! I'll run to Essos and be famous!"

Robb smirked, poking him in the belly repeatedly. "How are you going to be a famous knight if you can't protect yourself from being poked!" Robb asked. Rickon squealed with laughter, trying to fight Robb off. He rolled away and started climbing on Robb's back when the baby began to cry again.

"Boys." Cat said exasperatedly as she put her needlework down to pick up the baby.

"Sorry Mother." They both said together. Robb watched as Cat settled down Sara, who fell asleep almost straight away in her arms. It made him think of his own wife and what their children would be like.

Rickon wasn't thinking anything of the sort, however. "I will be a knight." He said, folding his arms in mock grumpiness.

"Then mayhaps it's time you learnt how to swing a sword." Robb suggested.

That lit up Rickon's eyes. He stared up at Robb hopefully. "Can I?"

Robb looked at Cat, who a year or so ago would have forbidden it. So much had happened since however that she just shrugged. "If Ser Rodrik agrees."

"Yeah!" Rickon pumped his little fist in the air. Robb shook his head warningly though.

"You must put the work in, Rickon." He told him honestly. "It's not an easy skill. Look at Jon, what does he do every day?"

"He's in the yard." Rickon answered.

Robb nodded. "He's practicing. And now he's the best swordsman in Winterfell because of it."

"For now." Rickon grinned cheekily. Robb laughed and ruffled his hair.

"Aye, for now." He repeated. "Come on then, let us leave Mother alone."

Rickon nodded and leaned towards his Mother so she could kiss his cheek before running away. Robb was slower, but Cat stopped him quickly. "Is he old enough?"

Robb smirked, knowing that her fears weren't all gone. "He is." Robb confirmed. "And he needs to learn. Winter is Coming after all."

Cat rolled her eyes. "Those damned words." She said. "Go on, he listens to you, make sure he's sensible and listens to Ser Rodrik."

Robb nodded, kissing his Mother on the cheek and stroking Sara's head before he went.

* * *

The Street of Steel was always bustling with activity. The clanging of hammers on forges rang out during the days and it was always packed with men and horses, with knights looking to buy or repair armour. Jon Arryn had rarely been down there, not having picked up a sword since the Battle of the Trident. He felt a bit odd walking down there at the side of Stannis Baratheon and a dozen guards of both Arryn and Baratheon allegiance, but as soon as Stannis had told him that he had found one of the supposed bastards, Jon had to see for himself.

They climbed up Visenya's Hill, stopping before they came to the road towards the Sept of Baelor in front of one of the more famous shops on the street, Tobho Mott's. Jon looked inside and saw a couple of people working, though he couldn't identify any features.

"He's an apprentice." Stannis explained. "Someone gave him to Mott as a child."

Jon nodded. "Very well, I'll have a word with him."

Stannis bowed his head and turned on his heels leaving Jon too it, knowing that they needed to be delicate in their investigations. Jon meanwhile made his men wait where they were and entered the shop. The forge was in the middle of the room, with the younger man hammering away at some steel. The elder man looked up and noticed Jon in the doorway, springing upright when he saw the Hand pin on Jon's clothing.

"Lord Hand!" Tobho Mott exclaimed. "An honour, My Lord. What can I do for you?"

Jon Arryn smiled generously. "I've not owned a sword in nearly 15 years, and your shop is by far the most highly spoken about. Could you make something for me?"

Tobho grinned greedily. "Why of course. Come, let me take measurements and we shall craft you the perfect blade."

Jon moved further into the shop as Tobho Mott got out some rope to measure Jon, but while he was doing so, Jon was staring at the apprentice, who was pounding away at a breastplate now. "Your apprentice is strong." Jon noted. Gendry stopped for a second as he heard Jon talking about him but carried on quickly.

"He's a gift from the Gods." Tobho praised.

"What is his name?" Jon asked.

Tobho looked over towards the forge. "Gendry!" He called. "Get over here."

The boy did as he was asked, and as his face became clearer to Jon, the elder Warden of the East almost gasped. He was the spitting image of Robert when he was a similar age. "Gendry, is it?"

"Yes milord." Gendry nodded.

"Do you enjoy working here?" Jon asked.

Gendry just nodded, "I do milord. Keeps me busy and Master Mott is a good teacher."

Jon smiled. "Good lad. Have you made anything yourself?"

Gendry shrugged. "Some swords, a shield. I want to make my own helm soon but I'm not ready yet."

Tobho had finished his measurements and was jotting them down. Jon just smiled at the boy. "I'm sure you'll make a fine helm, lad. Go on, don't let me keep you." Gendry bowed awkwardly and returned to his breastplate, picking up the hammer and going at it once more. Jon moved over to Tobho Mott. "When did you take him on?"

Tobho thought for a moment. "It must be almost seven years now, Lord Hand. A stout, bearded man came to my shop and paid me double to take him on. Best business I've ever done!" Tobho chuckled.

That intrigued Jon. "Do you know who it was?"

"No, Lord Hand." Tobho said honestly. "He wore a hood."

That was even more intriguing. Jon thanked Tobho Mott, who promised his sword would be ready in a week, and the Hand of the King left the shop, his mind spinning at the thought of a stranger knowing about Gendry, and what else the bearded man knew.

* * *

**So we have an insight into King's Landing. We're still a bit before the start of the series so Jon and Stannis are in the middle of their investigation now, but with Ned coming down to King's Landing things won't go the same way… **

**There's another hint as to the change that caused another person from the Rises timeline to be sent here in this chapter. I won't tell you if you're right until it's revealed, but your guesses are more than welcome.**

**I hope you like my new and improved Moat Cailin too! It's in the early stages of being rebuilt now, but it will be finished in the story and it will be impressive.**

**An insight into the Wall as well. That was unplanned, but my plan for the chapter was shortened drastically so I thought that would be slightly interesting.**

**And finally, Cat got pregnant! That little romp in Ned's solar from chapter 5 gave them both little Sara Stark, named after Sara Snow, made slightly famous by George R R Martin's new book Fire and Blood.**

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

**Reviews:**

**Chapter 13:**

**Lightningscar: A mistake likely, but I'll just say that he didn't recognise a pre-teen kid as 'the Stark'**

**Chapter 14:**

**Hear My Fury: Her family* Yeah Roose is still being watched.**

**spectre4hire: Can I just say that I am a massive fan of yours? The Dragon's Roar is easily one of my favourite stories on this platform, and your Sansa/Bolton one is excellent too. I may have fangirled slightly when I saw your review. Thank you for the kind words and I hope you continue to enjoy.**

**harisnorw: All the canon Stark's are either long dead or in the story already, so yes, she's technically an OC.**

**10868letsgo: Thanks!**


	16. The Demon of the Trident

**I keep flicking ahead in my plan and being in awe of what's to come. All this set up is about to explode in a few chapters time. Until then though, enjoy Ned, Torrhen and Bran all arriving in King's Landing and the start of the tourney.**

**I own nothing but Torrhen. All other characters and places belong to either George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

King's Landing looked just as shit as Torrhen remembered. As _Frostfang_ sailed towards the city he looked up at the Red Keep in what was almost disgust. Bran meanwhile was extremely excited on the other side of the ship.

"500,000 people." Ned's voice came from behind Torrhen. "Crammed into that."

"It's a wonder people care so much about the Iron Throne, given that this is your reward for sitting in it." Torrhen said grimly. "I'd rather stay north of the Neck."

"Aye, me too." Ned agreed. "But we have a duty to our King, and to our people."

Torrhen sighed. "How long has it been since you saw King Robert?" He asked.

Ned thought for a moment. "8 years or so, on Pyke." He answered.

"He's fat now." Torrhen told his Father. "With no war he has no purpose. He eats and drinks and whores and sleeps and doesn't do a lot else. If the boar hadn't have got him then the drink would have."

Ned wanted to argue but couldn't find the words. "He has time now though." Was all he could say. "With all that is about to happen, he shall surely have a purpose once more."

Torrhen wasn't sure. "Perhaps the man that killed Rhaegar Targaryen could lead us through the Long Night, Father. I'm not sure that His Grace has that in him anymore."

Ned didn't respond to that but watched on as _Frostfang_ sailed further towards the city. The anchor was dropped just before a small cove close to the Red Keep and a rowboat was dropped for the Stark party to row to the private docks of the King. Torrhen stood, his hand on the wolf head pommel of Winter's Bite. He saw the golden banners of House Baratheon mixed with the blue banner of House Arryn and realised that he was about to meet Jon Arryn for the first time.

The boat came to a stop as it hit the banks, and Ned was the first off. Torrhen helped Bran over the edge before joining his Father and brother in kneeling before King Robert Baratheon, the First of His Name.

"Get up, Ned." Robert told his friend. Torrhen rose just after his Father. "8 years, where have you been? Why haven't I seen you?"

"Guarding the North for you, Your Grace." Ned answered politely. Robert just chuckled and stepped forwards, clasping Ned in a tight hug. Torrhen looked around at the people that had come to greet them as the friends released one another. Jon Arryn was here, as were three of the Kingsguard and a handful of other guards dressed in either Baratheon or Arryn colours. Thankfully no Lannisters were in attendance.

"You must be Torrhen." Robert was in front of him now. "Already wielding, let's see the blade." Torrhen looked at Ned who just nodded his head once. The Stark gripped the handle and unsheathed the sword. "Valyrian Steel." Robert was surprised, but grinned. "Tywin Lannister has been after one of these for decades, and House Stark has two. Ha!"

"How did you get it?" Jon Arryn asked, stepping towards them and greeting Ned fondly.

Torrhen just shrugged. "It was a gift from the Old Gods, Lord Hand."

"Please, Jon is fine." The old man smiled. "We are technically kin after all."

Robert moved along to Bran next. "You'll be a knight one day."

"I'll be Kingsguard." Bran grinned cheerfully.

Robert laughed again. "I look forward to having you guard me." He ruffled Bran's hair. Robert turned back to Ned then, and so Torrhen sheathed the blade. "Your message has scared my council."

Ned didn't betray any emotion. "I apologise for the wording, but fear is a good emotion to have, Your Grace. I bring news, and it's not good news."

Jon was concerned. "Come, let us head into the castle and find Lord Stark and his sons some rooms before we discuss this."

Ned agreed, and so Robert draped his arm around the Warden of the North's shoulders and dragged him away to the castle. The Kingsguard and Jon Arryn followed him, leaving Torrhen with Bran making up the rear. "Is that really King Robert?" Bran whispered.

"Aye, little brother." Torrhen replied.

Bran looked confused. "All of Father's stories about him, the Demon of the Trident… I didn't think he'd be that fat."

* * *

Ned had told Torrhen to take Bran to the training yard with Ser Barristan while he spoke with Robert and Jon alone. The Small Council chamber looked empty; Robert was sat in his seat with Jon Arryn in the seat to his left. Ned was stood up, knowing that he needed to get what he came for. He placed a tall box on the table.

"You've had me pondering ever since your raven came, Ned." Jon admitted. "The North has been silent for so long, and then we get a message saying that you are travelling Southwards when I know how much you hate it here."

"Some things are greater than my own feelings about King's Landing." Ned said ominously. "The Night's Watch needs aid."

Robert scoffed. "They always need aid. That man, what's his name Jon?"

"Yoren."

"That's it!" Robert exclaimed. "He comes every year or two begging us for men and we send what we can. Have you been roped in to do his dirty work?"

Ned shook his head. "I come on behalf of Winterfell, on behalf of Westeros."

Jon stroked his brow. "Tell us, Ned."

Sighing, Ned leant on the table. "Both of your Houses are young compared to mine. Jon, your ancestors arrived with the Andals. Robert, yours came with Aegon the Conqueror. House Stark though has been in the North for over 8,000 years. We broke bread with the Children of the Forest and the Giants. We battled the White Walker's in the Long Night. We have known magic; it is in our blood."

"What are you saying?" Jon asked.

"Torrhen is a Greenseer." Ned explained, using the lie. "He has visions of the future and so far they have all come true. He wasn't lying when he claimed that the sword came from the Old Gods. He travelled to the Isle of Faces and pulled two blades from a Weirwood stump. He has seen a second Long Night, he has seen Winterfell at the heart of a great battle between life and death."

The other two occupants of the room didn't know what to say. Jon Arryn let out a held breath and Robert just looked unbelieving. "He sees the future. Your lad?" The King asked.

"And the past, sometimes." Ned told him, trying to work out what to say and what to keep hidden. "Robert, he was summoned by the Green Men."

Jon leant on his elbows, wringing his hands together. "You must admit Ned, this is extremely fanciful."

"It's the truth, Jon." Ned insisted. "The Long Night is coming again. We are seeing more deserters and Wildlings coming from the North than ever before. Benjen has been to the North and found them. He's seen the dead walking." That shocked the pair. Ned sighed and undid the box. Inside was a cage, small enough to hold an arm. The smell was revolting, and the flesh was falling off of the bone, but the arm still moved. Robert bolted out of his chair, standing upright as the severed hand closed and opened again. Jon just stared at it wide eyed. "This is the arm of a dead Wildling. Whatever is going on up there, the dead are moving."

"What black magic is that." Robert whispered.

"This is what will become of us all, Robert. Unless we stop them." Ned explained. "You are the King. Issue a decree to all the Lords to send capable men to the Wall. Offer them gold for their families or places at court, whatever you have to. We need to arm the Wall as a matter of urgency, before it is too late."

Robert was nodding. "You wouldn't come all this way if it wasn't urgent. Jon, see to it that the ravens get sent. I need a drink." He mumbled the last bit to himself. "Ned, join me for supper tonight. We can discuss this… business… then."

Robert left the room with speed, but Jon was still staring at the hand. He reached out for the cage, but Ned stopped him. "Careful, it will try and claw you to death."

Jon nodded, but unlatched the cage anyway gripping the hand by the forearm. It tried to scratch at Jon, but the Arryn held it at arm's length. "How do we stop it?" He asked.

"Fire, they don't like fire." Ned admitted. "But we can make plenty of that in the North. The other request I have of you is to let me meet with Stannis."

"Stannis?" Jon asked.

Ned nodded. "He is the Lord of Dragonstone is he not? I need the obsidian in his mountains. Dragonglass kills these creatures."

* * *

Sweating and with heavy breaths, Robb rolled over onto his side of the bed, moving his arm so that his wife could cuddle up into him. She had her eyes closed and a satisfied smile on her lips.

"Who taught you to do that with your tongue?" She asked sleepily. It was early morning, the time the couple usually spent being with each other before they had their duties to attend to.

Robb snorted a light laugh. "Nobody taught me, I just heard women like that is all."

They had been married for almost a year by now however, and Wylla knew him better than that. "You mean Theon told you."

"What? No… no of course…" Robb began to protest, before chuckling. "He may have."

Wylla snuggled closer to him so that their bare bodies were pressed up against one another once more. "He frightens me."

"Theon?" Robb asked. "He's harmless." As soon as he said that though he saw an image of an older Torrhen and a bearded Theon brawling on Dragonstone.

"He's Ironborn." Wylla reminded him. "My Father told me tales about their rebellion when I was a child."

Robb sighed, kissing the top of her head. "Theon has grown up in Winterfell, he's one of us whether he admits it to himself or not. If the time comes when Balon Greyjoy is as stupid as he was a decade ago then he'll be locked up, I swear to you."

Wylla smiled. "I just don't want to risk us, or any future children we have."

"At the rate we're going that will be sooner rather than later." Robb grinned.

Wylla laughed and slapped him on the chest lightly. "Robb!" She exclaimed with a smirk. "I can't help enjoying it so much. I was always taught as a child to put up with my lecherous husband as he had his way with me."

Smirking, Robb pulled his wife on top of him and kissed her deeply. "If anything it's you that has your way with me." He noted.

Wylla smirked again, sitting upwards on his stomach and reaching behind her for his cock. "Perhaps." She grinned. She gripped him in her hand and began stroking, when a knock on the door came. Wylla yelped and faceplanted the bed beside her, pulling the covers up to her chin.

Robb laughed at that, making sure nothing below his chest was showing before shouting. "What is it?"

Maester Luwin entered the room. "Apologies for disturbing you My Lord, My Lady. Another deserter has been captured."

Robb sighed. "Another one?"

"Yes, My Lord." Luwin confirmed.

Groaning, Robb nodded. "Alright, I'll be out soon. Send word to Jon and Theon to meet me by the stables." He then remembered his Father's parting words. "And get Theon to bring Ice. I shall be needing it."

Luwin bowed his head, a small smile on his lips. "At once, My Lord." He backed out of the room, firmly shutting the door.

Wylla groaned. "Do you have to go now? Give the deserter 10 more minutes of life."

Robb laughed, kissing her cheek as he got up. "As much as I want to stay in bed, we have duties."

Wylla feigned unhappiness, but she too got up and put her shift over her head before covering herself with Robb's robe and leaving to her own chambers to get ready for the day. Robb put on his boiled leather armour for the first time, relishing the fact that his Father had trusted both him and Torrhen to start wearing it. Once he was ready, he looked in the mirror. He was 15 now and hair was starting to grow around his face. He stroked it gently, feeling the short, scratchy hair on his fingertips and nodded, before leaving the room to meet out Northern justice.

* * *

Jon Arryn led Ned through the Red Keep until they got to a small room, with only a desk and a bookcase inside. Stannis Baratheon was sat at the desk scribbling out on some parchment. He looked up as Ned and Jon entered the room. "Lord Arryn." He greeted. "Lord Stark."

"Lord Stannis." Ned greeted back.

"This is a surprise." Stannis admitted. "Your visit has had us all asking questions as to why you are here."

Ned moved into the room and shut the door, locking it. "I'm actually here to see you." He admitted.

Stannis was visibly shocked. "Me? I thought Robert would have been the reason."

"I needed to tell Robert about the problems we are due to face North of the Wall." Ned admitted. "But it is you that will be the key to winning, not Robert." Ned then explained everything he had already told Robert and Jon, speaking about the White Walkers and the Long Night, and showing Stannis the moving hand. He also went into details about wanting to sure up the Night's Watch before adding. "But I need you, or more importantly, the obsidian on Dragonstone."

Stannis was almost enthralled at the tale. "We have a mountain of the stuff." He admitted. "And you're sure that it can defeat this army of the dead?"

Ned nodded. "My brother, Benjen, found a cache of it on the Fist of the First Men and used it to defeat the others in this wights party." He nodded to the hand on the table. "But the cache wasn't enough, we need enough to arm every man, woman and child in Westeros if we are going to be successful."

Stannis nodded his understanding. "Very well." He looked at the hand once more, creeping the Baratheon Lord out. "What does my brother say about this?"

Jon cleared his throat. "He agreed to reinforce the Night's Watch and has asked for ravens to be sent everywhere to send for men and supplies, but then he begged off for wine."

"Of course he did." Stannis muttered. He stood up, sighing. "How long do we have?"

"Around eight years, give or take." Ned admitted. "Enough time to sort out your other matter."

Both Jon and Stannis looked sharply at Ned. "What other matter?" Jon asked.

"The Queen." Ned said bluntly. "I told you Torrhen was a Greenseer, Jon. He has seen it. Your concerns are justified. Robert's heir is in this room." The other two didn't have a clue as to what they were going to say. "We've been preparing for war." Ned admitted. "We've been silent as we didn't want anybody in the West especially to find out. I told you we have time; we need to sort this matter out and defeat the inevitable reaction from Tywin quickly so that we can recover for the battles that truly mean something."

"Ned, are you aware of what you are saying?" Jon whispered harshly.

"If this wasn't urgent I wouldn't be here." Ned snapped. He turned to Stannis. "I'm willing to offer you my son Brandon to marry your daughter matrilineally. He can take on the Baratheon name, give her Baratheon children. I'll even leave him here to be squired by you, but we need that Dragonglass and we need our focus to be on the North, not fucking around down here with who deserves to sit on the Iron Throne after Robert is dead."

"We can't rush in…" Jon began.

"Torrhen has seen the end of the world, Jon." Ned said harshly. "If we dither and wait then we will all die. All of us. All your children, all of your family will be slaughtered in the chaos. We need Dragonglass and we need unity. We can only get unity when we have a Westerlands that accepts that Stannis is the rightful heir and that Cersei Lannister is a cuckolding traitor, and Tywin will never admit that."

"Who is the father?" Stannis asked.

Ned sighed. "Ser Jaime."

"And how can we prove it?" Jon asked.

"The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdom's." Ned told them. "A book that details that of every union between Lannister and Baratheon, the only children are of black hair. You've found the smith apprentice, have you not?" Jon nodded. "And little Mya Stone. There was a pair of twins in Casterly Rock that Cersei had killed, there's a girl in the Stoney Sept fathered during his hiding there, there's Edric Storm in Storm's End and there's likely either a pregnant woman or a newborn girl in one of Littlefinger's brothels right now. That's all that I know."

"How do you know so much?" Jon whispered cautiously.

Ned sighed. "Dragon dreams and fire priestess' aren't the only method of prophecy, Jon. Greenseer's are gifted."

"What else do you know?" Stannis asked, intrigued.

Ned leaned back against the door. "I know that Littlefinger wants Jon dead to cause strife between Stark and Lannister. I know that Cersei wants Robert dead before her treason can be exposed. I know that unless we act now, war will tear the Seven Kingdom's apart and all will be lost."

"If all of this is true…" Stannis began.

"It is true." Jon whispered, shocked at the declaration about Littlefinger. "Stannis, I know Eddard, he wouldn't lie about this, not to me."

"Never to you." Ned promised. "I'm here to try and save you."

Jon gripped Ned's shoulder in a mark of respect. "Then we do need to act."

"I'll move back to Dragonstone the next time Robert leaves the capital." Stannis suggested.

"Take Renly with you." Ned said. "Get him away from Lord Tyrell, he'll whisper poison in Renly's ear."

Stannis nodded. "We'll take the fleet, ensure that we have the capability to siege from the sea if needed."

"And I'll call the banners of the Vale." Jon added, taking one of Stannis' parchment pieces and scribbling on it. "I'll give the message to you now, Ned. I don't trust Pycelle not to read it."

"Don't trust anybody." Ned warned them both. "Littlefinger, Varys, Pycelle. Everyone here is out for their own agenda. If we are to do this cleanly, we need to be swift."

The pair nodded. "When do we act?" Stannis asked. "You won't stay, Lord Stark."

Ned shook his head. "Once I'm back in the North after this blasted tourney I'll call my own banners. Wait until Robert goes on a hunt and then arrest the Queen and Ser Jaime. With any luck we can have this over with at that."

"I'll need more men." Jon said to himself. "That will be easy enough I can claim Robin needs to see his home and he will be sent back with an escort; I'll send that request with a raven tonight."

"Robert cannot know until we have proof." Stannis told them. "We can continue searching for the bastards and through that book you mentioned Lord Stark."

"There is still much to do." Ned admitted. "As I said I will stay until the end of the tourney, think of what I have said and make your preparations. If you need me to do anything on the journey back, then all you need do is ask."

* * *

The first event of the tourney was the archery, starting the day after the Starks arrived in King's Landing. Usually it was also the least attended event, but when the news that Torrhen was due to enter spread, King Robert, Lord Arryn and a number of other court members had joined Ned and Bran in the stands, and of course with the King in attendance, everybody wanted to join him.

There were 10 targets, and 68 entrants into the archery competition. Torrhen had made it through the first round placing third. The second round was just a single line of archers, the top ten. Torrhen was shown to the target closest to the royal box. He stared at the target trying to drown out most of the noise. He had 6 arrows to shoot at a multicoloured target, with each colour worth a different number of points.

"Archers! Nock your arrows!" The range master shouted. Torrhen did as he was asked, his Weirwood bow feeling good in his hands. "Draw!"

Torrhen pulled back the bow string as far back as he could. The wind was miniscule, so he aimed it close to the yellow centre of the target. "Old Gods hear me now." He whispered. "Send my arrow straight and true."

"Loose!" The Range Master called, and Torrhen released his two fingers holding the string, sending his arrow zooming towards the target, impacting just inside the middle circle. Cheers went up as all ten of the archers had hit the target somewhere. Torrhen didn't have time to check out his opposition however, as he was asked to nock another arrow.

He had quickly fired all 6 of his arrows, with a point total of 29, one off the maximum. Ser Eldrick Sarsfield was the only one to beat him with a maximum score. Grinning, Torrhen turned to the royal box and held his bow up towards them, watching with amusement as Bran was jumping around cheering, shouting his name.

"Well shot." An older man wearing a brooch of ivory and onyx swans, the sigil of House Swann in the Stormlands. "You'll be an unstoppable archer once you reach your majority."

"Thank you, Ser…" Torrhen trailed off.

"Balon Swann." The man smiled. "Lord Stark." He bowed his head.

"Lord Stark is my Father." Torrhen said uneasily. "Just Torrhen will do."

"Lord Torrhen." Balon smiled. "Is that a Weirwood bow?" He asked.

Torrhen nodded, holding it out for Balon to see. The Stormlander looked slightly jealous. "Well with a masterpiece such as that, Sarsfield won't have a chance in the final."

Torrhen felt his cheeks redden at the praise. "I appreciate the kindness, Ser Balon."

"Ah, it is no matter." Balon chuckled. "Just beat him, he thinks he's untouchable as he once squired for Lord Tywin's younger brother, knocking him down a few pegs would do us all a world of good."

Balon patted Torrhen on the shoulder with a firm hand before leaving the Stark to prepare for the final a few minutes later.

Within the hour, it was done. Ser Eldrick had misjudged a sudden burst of wind and had scored 3 points lower than Torrhen, who was quickly swarmed by a number of the others that had entered. A dark man in a feathered cape that called himself Xho picked up the Stark boy on his shoulders and was shouting and raving about the 'young prodigy' as he was being called. He was dropped in front of the royal box, and Torrhen knelt before King Robert.

"Rise, Lord Torrhen." Robert called formally. Torrhen did so and looked up at the large man. "You have performed admirably for a boy of your age. Your talent is to be expected given who your Father is, he was always going to sire talented children." He laughed aloud at that, clapping Ned on the back. "The prize money is yours to do as you wish. 7,000 gold pieces."

Torrhen looked up in surprise. He knew that Robert was exuberant in his spending, but that was a lot for the archery. Torrhen bowed his head and replied. "I thank you, Your Grace. The money will be well used to ensure my seat of Moat Cailin is rebuilt to the finest standards."

Robert just grinned, turning to Ned. "You raised him well Ned." He boasted. "Now then! Your winnings will be taken to your chambers, so come and join us up here boy and we'll watch some proper sport!"

Torrhen snorted a laugh as quietly as he could but did as he was asked. He sat down on the other side of Bran once he got up to the box.

"You were brilliant!" Bran gushed. "The other man kept looking over at you really angry every time you hit the middle!"

"I had the Gods on my side, Bran." Torrhen smiled.

Ned leaned over. "You shot well today." He praised. "That prize money will be most useful in the North."

Torrhen looked around and saw Ser Jaime Lannister preparing for the jousting. "There's more gold to come, Father. I swear to you." He said quietly.

* * *

**Lots to break down here then. Robb and Wylla are getting on extremely well, Ned, Jon and Stannis are planning their moves, Robert believes Ned about the Northern threat but is running away from it, and Torrhen wipes the floor with all of the archery. There's also another hint about the person who died to bring somebody else back. That will be revealed NEXT CHAPTER so if you want a guess as to who died and who close to that person has their memories then please go for it in the review section.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this. I have a feeling that it is my longest chapter yet so that's brilliant, although there is still a lot of excellent things ahead. Remember there's almost 50 chapters still to come in this story…**

**Next chapter: As already mentioned, another person is revealed as remembering Torrhen's past during the tourney…**

**Reviews:**

**Spectre4hire (Chapters 7, 8 and 9): I'd just finished re-reading it and I felt it was a fun little nod to the trope that George likes to use of history repeating itself, and while Edmure isn't quite King Aegon III, he's still the heir to a paramountcy. This is a show fic, and considering the Blackfish wasn't in the earlier seasons I've said that he was at Riverrun all the time. I agree with Jon's name that in the books I hope it isn't Aegon, but as you've said it's a show fic. Originally I had it as Jaehaerys before Season 7 came out. House Forrester is the House from the Telltale games that took parts of Season 4. I thought you might root for Dom/Sansa considering your story! I appreciate you saying that it's easy to follow, I realise that Rises is a daunting prospect as well as being pretty canon compliant which puts people off. Jon will learn soon enough so that his own arc can begin. I did mean to have a line break in there, clearly the mouse didn't want to work. The Telltale games are worth it in my opinion if you want more Thrones action, especially as it has the actual actors involved when necessary (Lena Headey, Peter Dinklage, Kit Harrington, Natalie Dormer, Emilia Clarke etc) although it's a shame that they didn't include the Forrester banners in Jon's army in 6x09 as that would have been a nice tie in. **

**Sparky She-Demon: He isn't…**

**Lord Villarreal of house Grand: It's neither. Ned told Benjen about the threat off screen before the gathering in Chapter 11, and they've been to the North and gotten a piece of Wildling in the time gap.**

**Bad Ass Female Fighter: Ned won't care, and his matches have been smart for the North so Robert can't complain.**

**RHatch89: Thank you!**

**Dragon master 124: I answered this in a PM, but for the benefit of other readers, Jon is an important player, just not yet. **

**Bella-swan11: Jon doesn't know anything yet, and he never wanted the Iron Throne…**

**Shyrai: They didn't have any gold in the mines, but they had a hell of a lot still.**


	17. Growing Stronger

**So by the title I think you can guess at where the next person to remember Torrhen's past comes from, and I'm pretty astonished that nobody actually got it.**

**17 is also my lucky number, which maybe tells me that I need to think more about my Tyrell OC idea a bit more…**

**I hope you all enjoy the chapter. I own nothing but Torrhen.**

* * *

The melee was chaotic. Men on horseback just trying to batter one another until one man was left standing. Torrhen absolutely loved it, although he was still gutted that Ned hadn't let him enter.

"You're a 13-year-old boy, Torrhen." The Lord of Winterfell had said sternly. "No matter your experiences that still counts for something."

No argument about the prize money would sway Ned, so Torrhen stayed in the stands cheering for Jory Cassel instead. The Captain of the Guards got knocked out late on in the tournament, leaving Ser Lyle Crakehall as the winner.

The jousts started that afternoon, and the first tilt was between the defending champion of Joffrey's 12th nameday tourney and a hedge knight that Torrhen didn't even recognise. He waited for the announcer to call them out and was in for a shock when he did.

"Introducing Ser Will the Stork!" The announcer cried out. The hedge knight played up to the crowd, only getting a few cheers from some of the Stormlanders in attendance. "To face the Lord of Highgarden himself, Lord Loras Tyrell!"

Torrhen was baffled. "What?" He said aloud. "Mace Tyrell is the Lord of Highgarden."

"Don't be stupid." Bran rolled his eyes from beside Torrhen. "Mace Tyrell died years ago."

Torrhen faced Ned questioningly, who nodded. "Aye, we got a raven some three years back. A hunting accident or something."

Torrhen leant back in his chair rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "But he lived until the Sept blew up." He whispered.

"Sorry?" Ned asked.

"This isn't right. Mace Tyrell was killed 7 years in the future." Torrhen said quietly. Ned looked at him, alarmed.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

"Positive." Torrhen said. "I met him when I was taken to Highgarden after Renly died."

Ned looked almost ill. "What does that mean?"

"The last time something changed so drastically that wasn't directly caused by us in some way." Torrhen began quietly so Bran didn't hear. "Was when Asher Forrester died."

"Mira…" Ned whispered. He looked across to the other side of the tiltyard and saw the Tyrell's in their own separate box. Olenna was sat down staring at the joust with a firm expression, and Margaery was stood up applauding loudly shouting for Highgarden, with Renly Baratheon stood next to her slightly more composed.

Torrhen was watching the same box. "It means that somebody close to Lord Mace also remembers my time."

Ned shook his head. "I dread to think who would be better." He groaned.

* * *

A large tent had been put up after the first day of jousting had finished where the highborn all gathered for a feast. Torrhen just sat down in his place eating only what he needed to as he kept an eye on everyone that he could.

He noticed Loras Tyrell and Renly Baratheon talking and boasting about the formers victory, while Margaery listened on laughing loudly at certain times. Olenna Tyrell was sat in her chair chatting to Jon Arryn. Torrhen also noted the royal bastards. Joffrey was drinking as much wine as he could while the younger two behaved themselves under the scrutiny of Cersei.

Bran was also slightly uncomfortable not knowing anybody. His younger brother quickly turned to Torrhen, whispering. "I need to piss, where do I go?"

Torrhen chuckled. "Come, Bran. I'll take you."

Bran scowled. "I don't need help, you know. I am 9." He stood up anyway.

"I know." Torrhen held his hands up in mock surrender. "But I don't want you getting lost and ending up in a bowl of brown."

Bran loved the scarier stories, and so as the pair left the tent to find a secluded space, Torrhen told him what he knew of the bowls of brown they served in Fleabottom. They found a tree out of the way, and Torrhen turned his back to Bran as the younger boy went, only to spot Prince Joffrey stumbling over towards them. "Old Gods, calm my hand." He whispered. "I don't want to kill him yet."

"Ah!" Joffrey slurred. "The wolf pups!"

"My Prince." Torrhen said through gritted teeth. "The feast is the other way."

"I know that." Joffrey told him. "I came to see the children of the man my Father won't stop prattling on about." The bastard looked Torrhen up and down, seeing only the dyed black armour of the North. "Not very lordly."

"We don't care for material things in the North." Torrhen told him, wishing this to be over. "All of your jewels, you've enough wealth on your person to feed an entire village for a month."

"And don't you forget that." Joffrey said, staggering slightly as he pushed his finger into Torrhen's chest.

Torrhen almost growled. "I would ask that you keep your hands off of me, my Prince."

"And I would ask that you remember that I am to be your King." Joffrey scowled, pushing Torrhen again. "You don't talk to me like that, pup."

"You are not my King yet." Torrhen said, standing his ground. Joffrey looked outraged. He turned round expecting Sandor Clegane to back him up, before realising he was on his own after stumbling out of the tent.

"How dare you." Joffrey wagged a finger before laughing. "I'm surprised you didn't enter the melee, we only put that on for you Northern savages. I suppose the archery is safer though."

"No Starks entered the melee." Torrhen said, moving slightly closer and lowering his voice menacingly. "Because when we fight somebody for real, we don't want them to know what we can do."

"Torrhen." Bran's voice said. Torrhen looked behind him. "I'm finished."

Torrhen smiled at Bran. "Good, we'll head back in then." He turned back to Joffrey. "If you'll excuse us."

Joffrey turned to Bran. "I'm surprised a runt like you didn't need big brother to wipe your arse for you too." Bran looked up to Torrhen worriedly, but Torrhen just pushed Bran away past the blonde-haired bastard and began moving to the tent. "Don't you walk away from me, you Northern cunt!"

Torrhen swung around, rage in his eyes. He knew he had to remain calm, but Joffrey was testing his patience. "Excuse me, Prince Joffrey?" He snarled.

"You heard me." Joffrey said, slightly less aggressively as before when he saw Torrhen's eyes narrow.

Torrhen took a step towards Joffrey, his fists clenched. "You best be careful how you treat people, my Prince." He snarled the title. "Someday somebody might actually have a weapon when you insult them and their homeland."

Joffrey caught the threat. "You dare." He growled.

"I dare." Torrhen repeated. "If I were you, I'd run back to the Queen and hide behind her skirts."

"Torrhen!" Ned called from behind them. "Here, now."

Joffrey grinned. "Run back to daddy."

Torrhen was about to pummel Joffrey's smug face but took a deep breath and relaxed. He gathered enough saliva in his mouth and spat at the ground in front of Joffrey's feet. "We'll have to do this again sometime, my Prince." Torrhen bowed his head politely before making his way back to his father.

"What in Seven Hells was that all about?" Ned whispered harshly. "Bran came running in telling me that you were about to kill each other."

"One day, I will stick my sword through his eye." Torrhen growled lightly.

Ned looked around carefully. "Not here." He whispered. "He's untouchable here."

* * *

The second round had begun early the next morning, and once again Lord Loras Tyrell was in the first tilt, this time riding against Ser Hosteen Frey. Torrhen had seen the gang of Frey's preparing as he walked towards his seat and was visibly angry at the sight of them all enjoying themselves, compounded by the reminder of Joffrey from the night before. Keeping his head down he briskly walked over to his seat, where this time the Tyrell party had been invited to share the royal box with them. Ned hadn't arrived yet, and it was just Bran already at the box sat down with Jory.

"Not a fan of House Frey?" An elderly voice was heard behind him. Torrhen turned and saw the wrinkled old face of Olenna Tyrell.

"Lady Olenna." He greeted. He turned to face the two knights preparing to joust. "They are only out for themselves. I'm sure you know about their actions in the Rebellion turning up late to see who won. I don't trust them."

"Too right and all." Olenna said proudly. "Give them a chance and they'll stab everyone in the back to rise in power."

'_If only you knew._' Torrhen thought. He watched on as the first tilt ended in a stalemate before turning back around. "I was sorry to hear about Lord Mace. It was very unexpected."

Olenna looked at him oddly. "Unexpected is an interesting word."

"Grandmother." Margaery warned.

Olenna held her hands up. "I'm just saying. He was an oaf; his own father rode his horse off of a cliff so why couldn't the son die on a hunting trip. At least he was doing something he enjoyed, I'd rather that then burn to death."

That's twice now that Torrhen had noticed a subtle reference to his other life. "To die while hunting is a very regal method of death, I suppose." He said quietly.

Olenna grinned. "I knew it. The King in the North arises." She said quietly.

Torrhen shushed her harshly. "Have care where we are, Lady Olenna." He looked around and thankfully they were out of range for anyone to hear.

"You're learning." Olenna told him with a smirk. "Meet me in my carriage tonight, it will be safer there. I fear we have much to discuss, Lord Torrhen."

* * *

As Lord Loras was facing off against Ser Hosteen Frey, Ned was back in Stannis' small office. "I felt it best we meet while the excitement goes on outside." Stannis told the Stark Lord.

"You have an answer for me, I presume." Ned said.

Stannis nodded. "I will agree to your terms. I will foster your son and betroth him to my daughter if you are sure that any children will take the name Baratheon."

Ned was happy with that. "I have 4 sons, and a daughter that's not likely to take a husband's name. House Stark will grow rapidly I am sure, House Baratheon only has you, your siblings and your daughter. You are in greater need."

Stannis appreciated that. "And I shall also arrange for the mining of the mountains on Dragonstone to begin. We can send regular shipments to White Harbour."

"I'd like one of the Manderly brothers to oversee that if you'll allow it." Ned told him.

Stannis bristled, but nodded. "I suppose your new family by marriage require more responsibilities?"

Ned snorted a laugh and nodded. "You know how vassals are, the more you give them the more they want."

Stannis couldn't agree more. "There is one other thing." He said. "Lord Arryn would like you to take his heir to Winterfell when you go. He was thinking of fostering him with me, but if all you say is true and Baelish is plotting against the Hand, we feel he'd be safer away from King's Landing."

Ned agreed, although he remembered something Torrhen had said when he explained his past life. "Do not tell my goodsister." Ned said warningly. "She will cause a scene and will likely aid Baelish if she feels Robin is being taken away from her."

Stannis was about to question that but thinking on it he realised that as unstable as Lysa was she would probably do something drastic. "I will make sure the Hand knows." Stannis told the Stark.

"Of course I'll take him." Ned said. "He's not to dissimilar in age to my youngest."

Feeling that this was all coming together, Stannis relaxed a bit more in his chair. "How long will you stay for?" He asked.

"Until the end of the tourney." Ned answered. "Too much needs seeing to in the North, I want to be ready by the time we make our move here."

* * *

The sun was setting as Torrhen got into the cramped, golden carriage. Olenna Tyrell was already inside, and as soon as Torrhen sat himself down they were hoisted up by the 8 Tyrell men tasked with carrying them, and they began moving through the city.

"So, you've finally joined me." Olenna noted.

"Finally?" Torrhen raised an eyebrow.

Olenna nodded. "Three years back I drunk poison. Highgarden had been taken, my son and grandchildren had been murdered, and Jaime Lannister gave me the kinder way out." She scoffed at that last bit. "Then I woke up. A man older than me told me that I was to go back in time and prepare the Reach for what is to come and to wait for Torrhen Stark. I woke up and my grandchildren were still alive. Highgarden remained strong and King Robert was still on the Iron Throne. But my son had died in a hunting accident."

"That seems to be a trend." Torrhen sighed. When Olenna cocked her head questioningly, he explained. "Mira Forrester, your granddaughter's handmaiden. Her brother died in exile this time and now she remembers."

"Ah, the one that didn't show up this time. That you fucked inside Highgarden." Olenna remembered. Torrhen was taken aback. "Don't gawk at me boy, I know what goes on inside my own castle."

Torrhen gulped but carried on. "I'm sorry about your son, My Lady. Truly."

Olenna nodded her acceptance of that. "It was a sad thing, but what really got me was Cersei Lannister still acting like she sits on the Throne. Her vicious son still living, and the fact that nobody can see through her as I can. I even thought about inviting Daenerys Targaryen to Highgarden, but with Loras swallowing Renly Baratheon's sword every 5 minutes I thought that would cause more trouble than it was worth."

"It's good that you didn't." Torrhen admitted. "Dany needs to go through her trials in Essos. We need the dragons more than anything."

"Dany." Olenna mocked. "Ah yes, I forgot that she was another one to bed you."

"Lady Olenna." Torrhen tried to be serious.

Olenna laughed. "You look like a child so much I sometimes forget that you likely still fancy yourself a King."

"I fancy myself alive." Torrhen bit back. "You died too early, My Lady. You don't know the true danger."

"Cersei is the enemy." Olenna growled. "I didn't have any choice in my time to depart the world."

"Neither did I." Torrhen snapped back.

Olenna was impressed. "Go on then. How did you die?"

Torrhen sighed. "After you died, Dany destroyed a large part of the army that took Highgarden. The war was in a stalemate and she didn't know what to do until she spoke with my brother, Jon. You remember the last thing I said to you, in that war council on Dragonstone?" Olenna nodded. "I said that I couldn't send my men South while we were threatened by the real war."

"I also recall that you never told me what that entailed." Olenna remarked.

"The dead." Torrhen said. Olenna just looked at him like he was mad. "I'm serious. All those stories of the Long Night that you heard as a child, they're real. The White Walker's wake as we speak, gathering and animating the dead North of the Wall. Once you died they broke through, they swarmed the North until we stopped them… I, stopped them… at Winterfell." He pulled out the arm of the Wight that Ned had brought down to King's Landing. "Luckily we are more prepared this time and the Night's Watch will hopefully stand, but all your wishes for revenge pale in comparison to the real issue, Lady Olenna."

Olenna had frozen at the sight of the moving arm. "That's not possible." She whispered.

"The army of the dead is worse, much worse." Torrhen told her. "Swarms of them running at you faster than you can imagine. Entire armies being swallowed and killed in moments before your very eyes. And then there's the Walkers. Unfeeling, unblinking. Cold hearted killers."

Olenna gulped, and Torrhen put away the arm. "So you have a plan, I presume."

Torrhen nodded. "We have almost 8 years before they become powerful enough to break through the Wall. What we need to do is to unite the living under one banner before that happens. If we can do that early, then we'll have more time to prepare for the dead."

"So no War of the 5 idiots or whatever you want to call it." Olenna noted. "Good."

"I'll assume that Renly won't get any grand ideas this time?" Torrhen asked.

Olenna shook her head. "That fool wouldn't have farted without Mace telling him it was alright. We will stand behind Robert Baratheon, although I will never break bread with the Lannister woman again."

Torrhen smirked. "Not to worry, Lady Olenna. We are working on that…"

* * *

The tourney had been going on for almost a week and the jousting had come down to the final two. Ser Jaime Lannister had reached the final alongside Ser Barristan Selmy. Robert had offered to dine with Ned alone for that night, given it was the last chance they could talk properly before Ned went back given there was another large feast the next night to close the tourney. They both laughed about their memories of the Vale, with Robert focusing on his elder teenage years.

"Bessie! Gods, what a woman." He reminisced. "Tits bigger than you could carry!"

Ned laughed at the memory. "Jon had to send her away in the end, did you know that?"

Robert wheezed out a laugh. "The worst thing he ever did to me was deny me those tits." Ned shook his head while laughing, having a drink to try and calm himself down. "Well, the second worst thing, he forced this woman on me after we won the war."

Ned's laughter stopped abruptly. "You shouldn't speak of your Queen that way."

"My Queen." Robert rolled his eyes. "Do you know, the last time I remember us doing anything in the bedroom was before Tommen was born."

Ned desperately wanted to say something, but he knew he had to wait for the right moment. Instead he just shook his head. "I'm sure you've been celibate ever since." He joked.

Robert grinned. "It's been torture, Ned." He joked. "Gods, I've missed this. Why don't you come down more often?"

Ned shrugged. "Winterfell needed me. The North needed me."

"Now more than ever, if you tell the truth." Robert grumbled.

"When have I not?" Ned asked. '_Promise me, Ned._' Ringing in his ears.

Robert just nodded. "True. I value your council though, I've half a mind to name you to the Small Council."

"I'd only refuse." Ned admitted. "I'm needed in the North; I've only stayed for this damned tourney."

"True, I suppose. I'll send up two ships with men for the Watch, I swear it." Robert said, before he reached into his clothing and pulled out a raven message. "Though if you leave in the next couple of days I suppose I've got to make use of you while you're here. What do you think of this?"

Ned took it and read. It detailed that the Targaryen siblings had arrived in Pentos and were being protected by one of the magisters. "We can't get to them without causing a full-scale war."

"I could get a blade in though, a sharp one for both of their hearts." Robert said grimly. "I should have had them killed years ago."

"You know my feelings on murdering children, Robert." Ned told him firmly.

"Children grow." Robert almost growled. "That Viserys is old enough to mount an invasion now."

"With what army?" Ned asked. "You have the might of the Seven Kingdom's behind you, he has his sister. While you are King, they will never pose a threat."

Robert wasn't too sure, however. "There are still those in the Seven Kingdom's that call me 'Usurper', give them a chance and they'll stab me in the back."

"Minor houses, minor threats." Ned reassured. "The Targaryen's won't invade, Robert. The male is too mad to gain any allies and the girl won't do anything with him still in the picture. Relax, enjoy tomorrow and we'll deal with them if they ever become enough of a problem to worry about."

* * *

The final tilt was won by Ser Jaime in 4 tilts, and Torrhen was reminded by how unlikable the Kingsguard knight was before the War of the 5 Kings. He sat in his seat with his hands balled into fists as the Lannister rode around showing off while Ser Barristan picked himself up out of the dirt.

"He jousted well." Ned admitted.

"He's a fine warrior." Torrhen said. "A pity his ego is larger than Balerion's skull."

Ned snorted in laughter but didn't say anything more as a crown of golden roses was handed to Ser Jaime. There was literally only one person that the Kingsguard knight could have given the crown to, but as that person happened to be the woman that the two elder Stark's in attendance knew was cuckolding the King to sleep with her brother, Ser Jaime naming his twin sister the Queen of Love and Beauty still rankled with them. Ned saw Robert clapping and once again wished that he could tell his friend the truth, but the plans had been set in motion and anything putting those in jeopardy now had the genuine chance of threatening life itself. Instead he settled for strong, unenthusiastic clapping as Cersei Lannister placed the crown on her head, waving to the crowd afterwards.

Torrhen didn't even attend the feast that night, with the pretence of ensuring the Stark Household were ready for their early leaving the next morning. Ned had taken Bran to see the festivities and to spend a final night with his son, but Torrhen just couldn't face it. Once his clothes were all packed he ended up on a balcony staring out at the party down below, and all he could think of was the clashing of swords that was to come.

* * *

**Torrhen standing up to a very drunk Joffrey, Stannis agreeing to betroth Bran to Shireen as well as foster him, and Robert sending men to the Wall… Considering they're the least important things in this chapter that's crazy!**

**So yes, Olenna is the one that remembers. I did toy with Margaery being the one but Olenna lived longer and was technically an ally of Torrhen's in Black Wolf Rises. As well as her being the one in charge of Highgarden, to me it gives me a lot of opportunity to involve the Reach. Luckily this time Robb won't fuck up an alliance with them!**

**We are also getting close to the first episode of Game of Thrones in the timeline. 3 more chapters before that happens, all three of those encompassing the arc that I've named 'Preparing for War' so you know shit is about to go down…**

**Let me know what you thought of the chapter! Next time: We discover the results of Edmure's 'cattle show', and Robb opens his eyes on one of the mistakes he made in the original timeline.**

**Reviews:**

**Sandmanwake: As far as Ned knows Lysa isn't actually doing anything yet. She may have killed him, but Baelish pushed her into it. Lysa is also his wife's sister so he'll try and avoid her name coming into it until he has to.**

**Hear My Fury: Telling Stannis not to do anything is a recipe for disaster haha. You're right about the Lannisters and Tyrells needing to see anything before believing it. **

**10868letsgo: They've had months to plan it out.**

**Bad Ass Female Fighter: You're spot on about Joffrey!**

**Shyrai: That point was answered here.**

**ABEBOABDU: I'm not going to spoil if he will remember or not, but the one I was on about is Olenna.**

**Guest (dangggg): Jon's story will truly begin in Chapter 21. As I mentioned before he wants to keep Lysa out of it as long as possible for Cat's sake, which is easier when as far as he knows Littlefinger hasn't had a chance to bring her in on his plans yet. I like the Robin Baelish story (I used it in As High as Honour) but that won't be true in this one.**

**C.E.W: He's done a lot in that regard already, now Torrhen is just trying to guide things to go a certain way so that they have time to recover before the true battle. I also think that a war would have been the best thing for Robert in canon.**


	18. The Young Wolf

**Before we start, this is my first upload since the news of the spin offs broke. While I'm disappointed that the Bloodmoon idea didn't work as I love the Starks and the premise was exciting, the supposed racist undertones behind the show mean it's probably best that it never saw the light. I am super hyped for the Targaryen prequel though; I love Fire and Blood as a book and to see it on screen will be insane.**

**On to the chapter though, and it's important to note that Ser Hugh of the Vale has no back story other than he was a squire for Jon Arryn for 4 years and he has a Mother back in the Vale, so I may have taken some liberty as to why he was named Jon's squire coming from such a low background…**

**I own nothing but Torrhen, everyone and everything else belongs to HBO or George R R Martin.**

* * *

The Warden of the East and Hand of the King knew that his role was always going to be the most dangerous. King's Landing was a breeding ground of chaos and staying in the Red Keep and arguably committing treason was likely to go badly just as much as it could work. Sighing and resigning himself to what he knew was right, Jon Arryn got some parchment out and began writing.

It was a letter that he was copying out multiple times, to be delivered to all the major strongholds in the Vale. With each letter he grew more determined, knowing that his son's safety was of more importance than anything else in this world. He had decided to name Yohn Royce, the Lord of Runestone, the Protector of the Vale and Warden of the East in the circumstance of Jon's death and everybody in the Vale needed to know.

As soon as he had finished his last letters he called for his squire. The young man was tall, but rarely looked the elderly Lord in the eye. "How long has it been since you were in the Vale, Hugh?" He asked.

"Almost 4 years, Lord Arryn." Hugh told him.

"And your mother, is she still in the Eyrie?" Hugh just nodded. "I'm sure she'd appreciate a visit, you are an only child, yes?"

"I am… Mother never wed, and I never knew my Father." Hugh admitted.

'_And you never shall._' Jon thought mournfully. Hugh was the bastard son of Jon's long dead nephew Elbert and a kitchen maid, a fact known only to Jon and the woman, who had been paid handsomely for her silence. "Well then, I have a task for you, Hugh. Complete it and I will see to it that you are knighted."

That put a large smile on the boy's face. "My Lord… thank you."

"You might not thank me yet…" Jon told him. "I need you to go to every keep in the Vale and deliver these messages to the Lords and Ladies they are for. Then stay at the Eyrie as a member of the guards, can you do that?"

Hugh nodded eagerly. "Good lad, now take them and my ring and go to Ser Jasper, he will arrange an escort for you." Jon took his falcon ring off of his fingers, it being a clear indicator that Hugh is on Jon's business.

Hugh almost raced out of the room, leaving Jon alone in his chambers in the Tower of the Hand. He poured himself a well needed wine and made to relax. Of course, he wasn't afforded that luxury as the door flung open.

"WHERE IS HE!" His beloved wife, Lysa, screamed erratically. "WHERE IS SWEETROBIN!"

"Not in King's Landing." Jon replied, tiredly. "Don't worry, he's safe."

"Safe? He can't be safe! He needs me!" Lysa exclaimed.

"He is with Lord Eddard and will be raised with your sister's children. He will be perfectly fine in Winterfell." Jon replied monotonously, bored of the inevitable row already.

Lysa's eyes narrowed. "She will steal him for her own, like she steals everything." She snarled. "I want his head! He stole my baby from me!"

"You will have no such thing." Jon snapped, raising his voice. "Roland." He called.

One of the guards on Jon's door popped his head through. "Lord Hand?"

"Take Lady Arryn to her chambers and have the Maester give her some dreamwine with honey. She needs her rest." He ordered.

The guard entered the room and took Lysa by the arm. The woman struggled and cursed, but Jon tuned it out. He knew that this was going to happen, and he could only hope that Catelyn Stark could help his son better than they had ever been able to in King's Landing.

* * *

Breakfast at Winterfell had always been a more family orientated meal for the Stark's, and this day was no different. Robb and Wylla were sat at the head of the table as they had tended to do ever since Ned and Bran had travelled to King's Landing. Catelyn was at Robb's side, trying to keep baby Sara quiet as well as getting Rickon to eat his food. Luckily Jon had also been invited to eat with them, and he had taken over babysitting Rickon for the most part.

They were all interrupted when Maester Luwin entered the Great Hall, holding raven messages in either hand. "My Lord, My Ladies." He bowed to the three that were in charge of Winterfell as he reached the table. "A message from King's Landing, and from Riverrun."

"Riverrun?" Robb asked, his boyish demeanour vanishing instantly as he sat up straighter and looked towards Luwin. "What does my Grandfather want?"

Luwin handed Robb both of the letters, and Robb went to the one with the trout seal first. He unfurled it and read the words. "We have a cousin." He told his siblings.

"The babe has been born?" Sansa asked happily.

Robb nodded, handing her the letter. "Aye, Lady Melody has given him a healthy son. Axel Tully."

Cat rolled her eyes. "Of course Edmure would name him after the first Lord of Riverrun." She read her brother's scribbles. "And my goodsister is doing well." Edmure had been put through a similar, but smaller cattle show, as the smallfolk liked to call it, as Aegon III had been forced to host, and he had chosen a niece of the current Lord Piper. Theon had joked that Edmure had just wanted to see if the Piper sigil was accurate, but Robb had clapped him over the ear for that.

The other letter had his Father's seal on. He broke it and the message was longer, and it genuinely brought a smile to Robb's face. "Father and Torrhen are on their way back with Robin Arryn. Bran is squiring for Lord Stannis and is betrothed to Shireen Baratheon."

Cat genuinely looked saddened. "All my babes, betrothed."

"I'm not." Arya said from next to Jon, a mouthful of bacon.

"Not yet." Jon noted with a smirk. Robb laughed at that and even Catelyn had a brief smile on her lips, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by the supposed bastard.

Robb then turned to Wylla. "He also asks that we arrange regular ships to Dragonstone with your Grandfather."

"I'll write to him." Wylla said, placing her hand on Robb's. He mouthed thank you to her.

Robb then looked across the table at Jon. "I want you to ride to White Harbour and greet them." He said. "With a strong escort."

Cat looked at her eldest son with suspicion. "What aren't you telling us?"

Robb looked around the table. "Arya, Rickon. It's time for your lessons."

"But I want to hear." Arya groaned.

"Now, Arya." Cat said sternly.

"Come, Lady Arya." Luwin said calmly, gesturing to the doorway. "Come on Rickon."

Arya got to her feet, but she glared back at them. "Why does Sansa get to stay?"

"Come, Arya." Luwin said more firmly. Arya just huffed and stomped away.

Once the door was shut again, Robb sighed and dropped the letter, massaging his temple. Wylla placed a gentle hand on his arm. "What is it?" She whispered.

"It's time." Robb said darkly, looking around the room. "Father has ordered the banners to be called. As soon as he is back in Winterfell we are to march to Moat Cailin and wait for orders from King's Landing."

Catelyn leant back in her chair, letting the news sink in. The other three in attendance however were confused. "War?" Sansa asked, getting upset. "Why are we fighting?"

Robb looked to Catelyn, who just nodded her head once before she went to pick up Sara and hold the baby tight to her chest. Robb cleared his throat and began explaining the story that they were telling everybody. "Jon knows this, as do all the Lords and Ladies of the North. The reason Father, Torrhen and Bran went to King's Landing is because of the things that Torrhen has seen. His visions… they show the end of the world. The Long Night approaches once more, but the realm will be broken beyond repair by the time it gets here because of treason in King's Landing. The Queen's children are not the King's."

Jon sucked in a breath, even though he had known it still was chilling to hear again, and Sansa just gasped. Wylla looked at him, just as shocked. Catelyn took up the tale then. "That is why your Father has rushed into betrothing you all off." She told Sansa. "To ensure needed alliances so that when these two wars happen, we are all ready."

"We need the ships regularly going to Dragonstone because the island has valuable materials that can help us win the Long Night." Robb explained. "And we need the alliance with House Bolton so that they aren't tempted to betray us during the war against the Lannister's that is coming soon."

"This is… this is why Torrhen has been so different?" Sansa asked. "He's seen all of this and not told me?"

Catelyn smiled at her apologetically. "We thought it best not to worry you."

Sansa nodded, but didn't look very happy. "Why tell us now?" She asked.

"Because Domeric will likely be going to war too." Robb answered. "You deserve to know why."

Wylla just looked down at her plate. Robb noticed she looked upset, and thankfully so did Cat. "Come, Sansa, Jon. I'm sure Rickon has run off to the training yard by now, we should go and watch him."

Robb was grateful for that, and once it was him and Wylla alone in the Great Hall he turned to her. "I'll be fine."

"You don't know that." She said snappily, before her face fell and she apologised.

"It's ok." Robb smiled softly, taking her hands in his. "But I will be fine, I've trained for this all my life."

"You don't have to go." Wylla insisted. "You can stay here, rule Winterfell."

Robb shook his head. "If this war does break out then I have to fight. The Queen has committed foul treason, and it's my duty to bring her to justice when called upon."

"Even if you have something more important to live for?" She whispered. Robb was confused, so Wylla brought his hands down to rest on her belly.

It took him a moment to realise what was being said, but finally it clicked, and his eyes lit up. "Are you serious?"

Wylla nodded, tearing up. "Luwin confirmed it yesterday. I was going to tell you last night, but you dropped off to sleep straight away."

Robb had a wide grin on his face, and he pulled Wylla in for a deep kiss. Breaking apart, he placed his forehead against her own. "Then all the more reason for me to go. If we lose this war, then our baby will be in danger. We need all the men we can get."

* * *

Frostfang was a speedy ship, and by the end of the second day of sailing it had already reached the Narrow Sea and began to turn Northwards. As dusk fell, Torrhen was stood on deck staring out towards the East, a certain silver haired woman on his mind.

"The Captain says that if the winds are kind we shouldn't be much longer than a week away." Ned said from behind Torrhen, the Stark patriarch joining him in leaning on the taffrail.

"That's good time." Torrhen noted half-heartedly.

Ned noticed the tone. "What's on your mind?" He asked.

"Daenerys." Torrhen admitted truthfully. "She'll be out there in Pentos now, feasting with her insane brother and hoping for some form of escape."

"We can always turn the ship. Delay our return?" Ned suggested.

Torrhen snorted almost silently. "From what she told me before, if we rescued her now she would just be a shy young maid. No, as much as it pains me she needs to go through Vaes Dothrak and Slaver's Bay. Plus we need those dragons more than anything."

"Dragons." Ned shook his head. "If you hadn't have shown us all your visions I would never believe you."

Torrhen smirked. "They're extremely impressive beasts."

"I do worry though." Ned admitted. "I fought to depose her Father; she may resent us all."

Torrhen shook her head. "Dany is strong willed, but she isn't that blind." He said, remembering their time in Meereen. "Although she did threaten to have me killed at least seven times before she trusted me."

Ned looked concerned but saw that Torrhen had a smile on his face and breathed easier. "You sound fond of her." He noted.

"She got me through Mira's death." Torrhen admitted. "She got me through Maege Mormont's death too. She is a good person underneath all of the bravado. Although I think Jon may have helped there."

"Jon." Ned sighed. "I need to tell him the truth, but I can't face it."

"He needs to know, and it needs to be from you." Torrhen said. "He hated me for almost a year after keeping it from him."

"I will." Ned nodded. "I have a plan for him, I think at least."

That interested Torrhen. "Am I allowed to know?" He raised an eyebrow.

Ned chuckled. "In time, I'm still working it all out. He can't come with us that's for certain. I won't have him come anywhere near Robert."

Torrhen nodded his agreement and stared out to sea again. He thought about Dany once more and prayed that she could remain strong and come through as she had in his first life.

* * *

The life of a squire was a tough one, Bran Stark realised. He was tasked with running a bunch of errands for the Master of Ships and had already memorised the quickest route through the Red Keep to get down to the docks. The young Northerner was also being schooled in the art of swordplay with other young members of the royal court, and he was excelling. It was all a dream come true to the young man, but of course it had to be cut short.

He had been polishing Stannis' armour when the Lord of Dragonstone entered his chambers. Bran immediately stood up, holding the half polished gorget in his hands. "Lord Stannis." Bran greeted.

Stannis nodded his head, his way of saying to Bran to go back to what he was doing. Bran sat back on his bed and continued polishing, moving his eyes up to see what Stannis was doing every few seconds. The Baratheon was just staring out of the window of Bran's chambers, looking out towards the Narrow Sea.

"Once you are finished up with the armour I want you to ensure all your belongings are packed into a single chest." Stannis told him. "We leave at dawn."

"Leave?" Bran asked quickly, before remembering he shouldn't have questioned. "Apologies, Lord Stannis."

Stannis turned his head to look at the young Stark. "I understand you were looking forward to being in King's Landing, but things aren't as they seem here in the capital."

Bran nodded his head. "Where are we going?"

Stannis looked around at the walls. "These walls have ears. You'll know where we are going when we get there. For now, see to your duties for tonight and make sure you are ready."

Bran nodded, and Stannis left the room. He was a bit annoyed as he had looked forward to being in King's Landing for so long, but his Father was counting on him to be a good squire for Lord Stannis. Stopping himself from showing any emotion, he went back to polishing the steel, determined to show himself in a good light and do as he was bid.

* * *

After all of the ravens had been sent Robb didn't even get a day to relax when a rider from Torrhen's Square arrived. The town was suffering heavily from a lack of food, and Robb had insisted he travelled with the convoy of food and gold that he had arranged and made sure that the people got their fill.

He brought Theon with him too, having felt bad for basically ignoring Theon for the most part ever since their argument so long ago. Very quickly however, Robb realised that after everything that had happened he didn't enjoy the Greyjoy's company as much, as the elder boy went on about Ros' tits once again.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure I've memorised the shape of them and I've not even seen them yet." He groaned. Theon just grinned.

"I'm sure she won't mind you tagging along if you're intrigued." Theon joked.

Robb shook his head. "I'd rather not, besides, I have my wife to warm my bed, I don't need to pay for that."

Theon roared with laughter. "You'll end up paying in other ways I'm sure. I'm sure her dresses won't be cheap." Robb didn't rise to it, focusing on the ride ahead. They had been travelling for a couple of days, and soon enough they could see Torrhen's Square in the background, as well as the lake that eventually led to the Saltspear. "Ah! Water!" Theon exclaimed. "It's been so long since I've seen any."

"Do you miss it?" Robb said quickly, before he could stop himself. "Pyke?"

Theon looked thoughtful as his horse walked on. "Sometimes I do. I miss Yara, I miss the sea. I miss my Mother a lot, and my Father sometimes too."

It was at that moment that Robb realised that before now he had never really spoken to Theon about the Iron Islands before. "Tell me about them. Tell me about Pyke." Robb said.

And Theon did, reminiscing vividly about the salty smell of Lordsport, sailing with his elder brothers and roaming around Pyke with his elder sister. He spoke fondly of the place, too fondly for a man that had been taken from his home after his Father had doomed them all in an unwinnable war, Robb realised. He hadn't seen it before and probably wouldn't have if Torrhen hadn't shown him what trusting Theon had gotten him in another life. Thankfully, he wouldn't make that mistake again.

* * *

**Robb and Theon going to Torrhen's Square is pretty much the same journey as in book canon where Ned took Theon, I've just made up a reason for it to happen here to get them talking about Pyke. Robb is learning, and he's becoming a more capable political leader in the process as well as a future father! Leave your guesses for the baby's gender and name down below…**

**The King's Landing plot is also taking more of a turn, with Stannis leaving the capital earlier than he did in the show/books. A bit of mad Lysa thrown into the mix as well which is always fun.**

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Next time Robb arrives in Torrhen's Square and starts to prove himself to the Northern Lords, while White Harbour and Dragonstone prepare for war.**

**Reviews:**

**Chapter 11:**

**spectre4hire: It is dangerous information, but necessary for the North to get on board with it. He trusts their distrust of Southerners, and he trusts Roose's ambitions and has played into those with Sansa's betrothal. Baby Sara could be the one to marry a Glover, or it could be Robb's child if that's a girl... You're right about Moat Cailin too, and it will be very important.**

**10868letsgo: I think she'd be wary of anybody that she could marry them off too.**

**Tahari: This is a show fic, so no Willas and Garlan aren't involved. If I end up needing two more Tyrell's however then they will be cousins of Loras and Margaery.**

**Sparky She-Demon: I thought so! It had to be her or Margaery to get the Reach involved earlier, and she lived the longest, so it made the most sense.**

**Guest (Jaime): I am debating whether or not to add Jaime in as somebody that remembers but I'm not sure if it would mess up the plan or not yet. **

**Bad Ass Female Fighter: He's an important member of Stannis' party so even if they were staying he'd have been well away from too much trouble.**

**Guest (Ned and Stannis'): She may well try and kill him, but if she's successful or not depends on whether Jon, Stannis and Ned's plans not being able to complete first. Yes, this is a show fic so as it stands Willas and Garlan don't exist, and if that changes then they won't be sons of Mace, but of a dead OC younger brother I may or may not include as I did in United in Fury. The good thing about them not existing though is that there is a young Reach noblewoman that is now unwed…**

**jivablab: Ned wouldn't have known about a random whore in King's Landing though, so there's no way.**


	19. Inevitable War

**We're really close to the start of the show in terms of timeline now, but there's still a bit to get through first, so here we are.**

**I own nothing but Torrhen. Everyone and everything else is the property of either HBO or George R R Martin.**

* * *

Bran Stark was in awe of Dragonstone. The Red Keep was exciting, but everything from the alien look of the Valyrian castle as they sailed into the bay alongside a vast number of ships that were already anchored in the bay to the long winding steps up from the beach to the castle truly excited the youngster. Even getting inside the castle and seeing the bright yellow banner with the crowned stag of Baratheon dangling from the ceiling filled Bran with awe.

As Stannis and Renly quickly made their way to the Chamber of the Painted Table, Bran was immediately shown to his chambers, a fairly large room that befitted his Stark name that was close enough to Stannis' own rooms for him to be able to perform his duties as squire. His chest had also been moved, so Bran set about unpacking his things.

He had been doing that for around 5 minutes or so when a knock at his door came. Bran quickly swivelled around to see a young girl, around his age. "Hello." He said shyly.

"You're Brandon Stark, aren't you?" The girl asked, both nervously and excitably at the same time. Bran just nodded. "I'm Shireen."

Shireen Baratheon, the girl he would one day marry. Bran gulped and looked at his betrothed. She had the black hair and the blue eyes of House Baratheon, and while she wasn't exactly what Robb or Theon would have called pretty, Bran didn't think she was ugly either. Then he caught notice of the grey scales on the left side of her face.

"I'm happy to meet you." Bran said with a smile, not staring for too long in case he was seen as rude.

"Me too." Shireen said. "There aren't many people my age on the island, so I don't get to talk to many people."

"Nobody?" Bran asked in surprise.

Shireen shook her head. "So I hope you don't mind me coming to meet you. Mother would be furious, but I had to."

Bran just smiled warmly as he reached into his chest. "I'm only unpacking. You can help me if you like?"

That clearly meant the world to Shireen, as she beamed at him with a warm smile. Skipping over to his chest she found a book inside. "_Lies of the Ancients_, I haven't read this one!"

"Oh that?" Bran shrugged. "I think my sister put that there as a joke, Old Nan says that it's full of rubbish and is only good to laugh at."

"Can I borrow it?" Shireen asked excitedly, before calming herself. "I apologise, I've known you for a couple of minutes and I'm already stealing your things."

Bran felt bad for the girl and felt extremely lucky that he had grown up with all of his brothers and sisters. Realising how loneliness must have meant she lived in her books, Bran nodded. "Of course you can borrow it. As I said, I think Arya put it in there as a joke."

Shireen grinned happily once more. "Thank you!" She exclaimed. She put the book to one side and began helping Bran unpack his things, as she asked him about Winterfell and his family. They must have been amicably chatting for almost an hour when another knock at the door came. Bran noticed the ship captain that he had travelled to the island with. Shireen on the other hand grinned and exclaimed. "Onion Knight!"

"Onion Knight?" Bran asked before he could stop himself. Luckily the man smirked.

"Aye, Lord Brandon." The man said.

"Bran." Bran responded quickly. "Lord Brandon was my Uncle."

"The Uncle that died before the rebellion?" Shireen asked quickly, before realising how that sounded. "Sorry, I didn't mean…"

"I didn't know him." Bran shrugged.

The Onion Knight cleared his throat. "Nice to finally talk to you, Bran." He said, holding out his hand for Bran to shake. "I'll tell you the story of my nickname one day, but for now it's Davos Seaworth."

"Ser." Shireen corrected. "You are a knight, Ser Davos."

"A fact that you never fail to remind me, My Lady." Davos smiled at the girl. "Your Father is looking for you."

Shireen grinned once more. "Father? Where is he?"

"The Chamber." Was all Davos said.

Shireen turned to Bran. "I'll see you again soon, I'm sure."

"Bye." Bran said awkwardly. The Baratheon girl then skipped away out of the room. "She's really talkative." He noted aloud.

Davos smiled fondly. "Not often, she must like you."

Bran didn't know what to say to that, instead just staring at the doorway gormlessly at where Shireen had just departed from, when he realised that she had forgotten the book.

* * *

Olenna Tyrell watched the rider race into Highgarden from her tower room. Normally she wouldn't have cared, but even in her aging eyes she could see the yellow banners of House Baratheon following the rider into the castle maze.

"Left, Right." She called for her two guards. "Help me towards the hall."

She made it in time for Loras to receive the envoy and noticed that he was wearing the green turtle of House Estermont on his steel gorget. Sitting down in her chair to the side of her grandson, she waited as Loras received his guest.

"Ser Andrew." Loras greeted. "A welcome surprise."

"I wish I came in better tidings, Lord Tyrell." Ser Andrew Estermont said. "But I was bid to give this to you, and you alone."

He held out a letter and moved to walk forwards to the white marble throne that Loras was sat in. A pair of guards made to stop him, but Loras quickly waved them away. "Ser Andrew is the cousin of the King, Ser's. Let him pass."

Loras took the letter from the Estermont, and Olenna watched as his eyes initially softened after breaking the seal and reading what she assumed was Renly's words, only for those eyes to narrow and harden. She presumed it was something dangerous.

"Thank you, Ser Andrew." Loras said suddenly. "Please, the hospitality of Highgarden is yours. Stay the night and I shall have a response for you to take back to Dragonstone by the morning." That interested Olenna, why had this Stormlander sworn to Renly Baratheon come from Dragonstone? She didn't have too long to wait however, as once Ser Andrew and his two banner holders had departed Loras stood up and immediately dismissed the court, before walking past her and saying. "My solar."

Less than 10 minutes later, Olenna was alone with her grandson. "What is it?" Olenna asked. Loras just handed her the letter. Reading it, Olenna was even more intrigued at the words. "Stannis Baratheon has fled King's Landing with Renly?"

"They speak of treason, Grandmother." Loras said quietly, careful of being overheard. "The Queen…"

"Yes, I see what it says." Olenna interrupted. Of course she already knew the treason was accurate, and she also knew that Torrhen Stark had seen fit to tell her about what else was coming. "This explains a lot. Why Ned Stark was in King's Landing in the first place, why Jon Arryn is gathering Knight's of the Vale in King's Landing."

"He is?" Loras asked.

Olenna just smirked. "Renly is asking for the Reach's support against the Lannisters. He shall get it."

"This is unusually risky for you, Grandmother." Loras noted.

"These are risky times, boy." Olenna snapped, before softening slightly. "The Stark's poking their noses south of the Neck for the first time since the Rebellion, Stannis and Renly actually working together, Jon Arryn sending his son away…"

"How do you know all this?" Loras asked.

"I have my ways." Olenna shrugged. "But do you want to be seen dithering while whatever is coming goes down, or do you want to stand beside those with the King's favour in serving this treasonous whore the justice she deserves?"

Loras looked thoughtful. "Renly has asked for my aid. He shall receive it." He nodded. "He just asks us to prepare, not call the banners just yet."

"And there are many ways to prepare." Olenna replied. "We ensure that our western border is fully prepared for battle. We place regular patrols on the Gold Road, and we get you a wife."

The last one took Loras by surprise. "Excuse me?" He questioned.

"Have you cheese in your ears?" Olenna asked. "We need to find you a wife. You are the only male heir of your dim-witted Father. You need a wife and a child to keep your line going or Highgarden will pass to whomever Margaery marries. Do you want that?"

"No, but…"

"No buts." Olenna said sternly. "You wed a maiden, you bed the girl and then you get her pregnant. Chances are you'll only need to get her pregnant the once to have a boy and then you can go back to biting the pillows of Storm's End if you so desire, but you do your duty to House Tyrell first, am I clear?"

Loras was aghast at the suggestions, but Olenna's look stopped him from denial. "Fine." He said bitterly. "Find me a woman and I'll try."

* * *

It was a thinly populated Small Council that Jon Arryn walked in on. The only attendees being Varys, Baelish and Pycelle. Pretending to be shocked, the Hand of the King stood in the doorway and looked around.

"And here I was thinking I was late." He commented.

Varys nodded. "Yes, it seems that Lord Stannis and Lord Renly have both disappeared from the Capital."

Jon moved to take his seat. "Disappeared?" He asked. "Surely not."

"Renly must have just ridden out to Highgarden." Baelish commented. "He's known to do so, of course."

Jon knew what Baelish was insinuating, and for the first time since Ned had been to see him and explained everything, he saw just how devious Littlefinger could be, trying to plant seeds into all of their heads. "Or Storm's End, his actual seat." He said firmly. "Or he could be in the city somewhere, doing his job."

"He most definitely is not in the city, Lord Hand." Varys remarked in his song like voice. "In fact, it seems like the only Baratheon household in the Red Keep is His Grace's own."

Jon frowned. "With no explanations?" He asked.

"None, Lord Arryn." Pycelle added.

"That doesn't seem like either of them." Jon noted. He turned to the Grand Maester. "Send ravens to Storm's End and Dragonstone calling for their returns, or their resignations."

"Lord Hand?" Pycelle questioned. "Is that not a bit… drastic?"

"Drastic is leaving King's Landing in the middle of the night with not much more than a goodbye." Baelish said to Pycelle. "Asking for them to resign is asking them to confirm their intentions."

Jon nodded reluctantly. "Exactly. And until we have answers I don't think there's much point in us meeting as regularly, not for just the four of us. You can all go." Surprise showed on all of their faces, but they all stood, nonetheless. Baelish and Varys left quickly, but Pycelle dawdled, giving Jon the chance he needed. "Grand Maester, a word if you will."

Pycelle stopped and turned around. "Of course, Lord Arryn."

"I need to borrow a book that I think you have in your personal collection."

Pycelle furrowed his brow. "Which book, My Lord?"

"The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms." Jon Arryn quoted exactly.

"Ah, yes." Pycelle nodded. "I do have that. A rather ponderous tome, are you sure you wish to bore yourself with it?"

"Consider me interested." Jon stated. "I'm an old man, it will be good to read about some old friends."

Pycelle bowed his head. "Ah of course, forgive me."

"Not at all." Jon waved away. "I presume the book is in your chambers, shall we?" He asked, gesturing to the door.

Pycelle nodded and began walking out of the Small Council chambers, followed closely by Jon, who hoped that he hadn't given anything away in the meeting as well as that the book as well as the knowledge of the bastards would be enough evidence to prove them all right about Cersei's children.

* * *

Torrhen Stark walked through the corridors of the Red Keep until he saw his brother standing by a window. Bran was a couple of years older than Torrhen remembered him being and had a sword strapped to his hip. The younger Stark obviously didn't notice Torrhen moving to stand beside him, and the pair just stood there looking outside at the city.

It started from the docks, the buildings nearest the Blackwater began to blacken from the ground up. Torrhen looked on in alarm as it started spreading slowly, until the entirety of Fleabottom was covered, and eventually the entire city landscape was black and rotting.

"I don't want to die." Bran said, shaking from beside him. Torrhen turned and saw that they had been joined by Ser Barristan Selmy.

"We are in the safest part of the city, Brandon." Ser Barristan reassured the youngster. Torrhen didn't see anymore however as the entire world went white.

As the world came back into focus, Torrhen recognised that he was on the apex of the Great Pyramid of Meereen. He looked out at the peaceful city to see Daenerys Targaryen's dragons flying playfully around the pyramids, racing towards where Torrhen was stood. As they grew closer he saw that Rhaegal had a rider. Squinting his eyes in the harsh sunlight, all he could make out of the rider was dark hair, and his vision changed once more.

He was now back in King's Landing, but in the ramshackle streets of Flea Bottom rather than the splendour of the Red Keep. Taking a note of his surroundings he was surprised to see that he was all alone. Walking into one of the shops on the street, he frowned in confusion when that was empty too.

Everywhere was abandoned, all the people in Flea Bottom were mysteriously absent. Torrhen looked up to find the direction of the Red Keep, wondering what the point of this vision was when suddenly he felt shaking beneath his feet at the same time as hearing distant explosions. Before he could react, he felt searing heat beneath his feet and felt himself thrown into the air in an eruption of green flames, only to land in the snow.

Spitting out the snow that he had unwillingly eaten on impact, he looked around and saw that he was outside of a monstrous fortress. A curtain wall that was at least 100 feet high, with 9 towers poking out of the walls equidistance from one another.

"TORRHEN!" Robb's voice screamed. Torrhen looked over to see his elder brother, now a grown man. "FALL BACK!"

Torrhen noticed that his clothing had changed. In all of his other visions he had been wearing the same clothes as he had been dressed in before he had the visions, now he was in his trademark black tarred Stark armour, with Winter's Bite gripped in his hand. He raced towards the gates of the seemingly finished Moat Cailin and gasped as the doors slammed shut.

The rest bite of the Northern forces only lasted for a moment though, as cries went up and people pointed at the top of the walls. A body came flying down, and Torrhen recognised Rickard Karstark.

"Shit." He swore, as from where the body had fallen a giant spider came crawling down the walls.

"FORM UP!" Ned roared, his beard greyer and Ice in his hands. The spider was huge, and the White Walker on it's back filled the entire castle with dread.

The Walker dismounted the spider once it reached the muddy ground of Moat Cailin's courtyard, and the Northmen charged at it. Torrhen was just stood in horror however as the spider decimated the defenders, and his Father engaged the Walker.

Robb roared and went for the spider, and Torrhen barely had enough time to scream his brother's name when his vision went white once more, and he was lying on the floor of the Wolf's Den Godswood.

He panted, gasping for air. "Spiders." He whispered, scrambling backwards until his back hit the Weirwood tree. "They didn't have spiders."

"What did you see?" Ned Stark's voice came from nearby. Torrhen's father had offered to stand vigil while Torrhen had his visions.

"I… I'm not sure yet." Torrhen panted, accepting a water skin from Ned. "Death, lots of it. Ice spiders like Old Nan's tales… Flea Bottom burning… it's a lot to take in."

Ned looked worried and laid a reassuring hand on Torrhen's shoulder. "Take your time, have a drink tonight and we will discuss it properly on the road home in the morning. Lord Wyman is expecting us."

"Father." Another voice called out in the distance. Torrhen saw the silhouette of Jon Snow appear through the trees. "Are we ready?"

"Aye." Ned answered. "Ride ahead Jon, tell Lord Wyman that we shall be there soon." Jon did as he was asked, and as soon as he was out of hearing range Ned sighed. "He seems to have taken my harsh words to heart."

"He's ready." Torrhen told his Father. "It's almost time. The turn of the century is coming, and we will soon be at war. He must know the truth."

Ned nodded. "In Winterfell. It must be in Winterfell." He told Torrhen. "And then he will get to choose his fate. I've shielded him for this long, it's time I stopped and let Jon make his own way."

* * *

Robb would never lose the feeling of joy whenever Winterfell came into view in the distance. His journey to Torrhen's Square had been a good one, the people now had their food and Robb in turn had an army. Both Ser Helman Tallhart and Lord Rodrik Ryswell had met him with their entire hosts and joined him on the road back to Winterfell, ready for the battles to come.

That wasn't the only surprise for Robb however, for as they got closer to the castle the heir to Winterfell noticed that Wintertown wasn't the only settlement close by, and that a sea of tents had been put up outside the castle.

"How many do you think there are?" Robb's new squire, Benfred Tallhart, asked in awe.

Theon just scoffed. "More than you can count, thick neck."

Robb rolled his eyes. Theon had been making fun of the 13-year-old ever since they had arrived in Torrhen's Square. "Theon. Go ahead and make sure my Mother knows to expect us." He told his friend. Theon nodded and rode ahead of them. "Ignore him, Ben. What banners can you see?"

"I see…" The younger boy strained to see. "I see the banners of House Glover, House Forrester, Houses Woods and Bole…"

"All the Lords of the Wolfswood, so likely around 2,000 men if they've all brought their full strength." Robb explained.

"I see House Umber and Bolton too." Ben told Robb.

Robb smiled. "Two of the stronger houses of the North. Along with Winterfell's own banners I'd argue that between the four regions we will have around 15,000 men here at the moment, with more to come once the other Lords filter in."

"Wow…" Ben whispered.

Robb admired the boy's awe. "Come on, let us get settled into Winterfell and you can admire the numbers in your spare time."

He urged his horse on, closely followed by Benfred and the rest of the column as part of the western North joined their strength to Winterfell's in preparation for the inevitable war in the South.

* * *

**Bran and Shireen meeting was great to write. I figured that Shireen would be super excited for a kid her age and of the same social standing as her to be in the castle, and while both were shy they both got on really well. Also on Dragonstone is Renly, who's relationship with the Reach might be vital for Stannis.**

**The visions were also really fun to write. I'm interested to see if anybody can interpret them correctly. Some of course are fairly obvious with Torrhen seeing a battle against the White Walkers in the last one, but the King's Landing ones especially I'm not sure many people will be able to get…**

**And finally, Winterfell is gathering for war. With the added time compared to canon and the fact that Ned has had the North preparing and training for almost a year they will have more men than Robb marched down with in Rises.**

**I hope you all enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think as reviews always help me and spur me on.**

**Next time: Jon Arryn springs into action in King's Landing, while North of the Wall demons stir in the dark…**

**Reviews:**

**Kid Chaos: One of my stories will definitely have an Artos, so what an excellent guess. Whether it's this one or not though, you'll have to wait and see.**

**C.E.W: The Wildlings are a problem that will have to wait unfortunately.**

**Lord Villarreal of house Grand: As I stated in the PM, legitimisations are extremely rare. In the show the only bastards in all of Westeros to be legitimised are Ramsay and Gendry, in the books it's just Ramsay. In the lore there's Addam and Alyn Velaryon, Aegon IV's children and the children of Lyonel Hightower and Samantha Tarly. That's 300 years of history and less than 20 legitimisations. With a man as honourable as Jon Arryn he wouldn't force a legitimisation unless Hugh had earned it. (as Roland did in my As High as Honour story) As for keeping it a secret, as a potential heir to the Vale if it was known, then he could be used, and Jon wouldn't want that.**

**Guest (memories): I don't think I'll add Jaime to the list of those that remember to be honest, but there are still 3 more that will. 2 will actually remember in the same chapter. As for the Wildlings. As it stands nothing has changed from canon other than the Night's Watch knowing about White Walkers and Wights.**

**nightwingbangarangzero: The timeline will line up with episode 1 of the show next chapter, so it's not long to go at all.**


	20. Winter is Coming

**As you can probably tell by the title, we've come to the start of the show with this chapter. A lot happens here, and after only 20 chapters we finally get all 'Game of Thrones' with numerous deaths. That is only going to be even more true as we go on!**

**I own nothing but Torrhen.**

* * *

There was a balcony on one of the higher levels of Maegor's Holdfast that had an excellent view of the main road that connected the Red Keep to the rest of the city, and it was the one that Cersei Lannister and her twin brother Jaime were staring out of as they watched at least 200 Knights of the Vale ride into the castle. Jaime was just impressed with the formation, while Cersei was more concerned about the ulterior motives behind such a move.

"He's planning something." She said to Jaime.

Jaime just smirked. "He's planning to take his mad trout of a wife away. I'm sure even you have heard her screaming from her chambers, asking every servant under the sun to bring her Ned Stark's head."

Cersei looked up at Jaime unamused. "Be serious. When has Jon Arryn ever needed this many men?"

"Women can be extremely feisty when they want to be." Jaime shrugged, before leaning in and whispering into her ear. "After all, I still have the scratches from last week."

Cersei slapped him on the chest. "Not here." She said sternly. "What if Arryn knows something?"

"He's an old man." Jaime shrugged.

"He's Robert's closest confidant, besides his whores." Cersei said sharply, glaring at Jaime. "If he knows…"

"He doesn't know." Jaime said quickly. "If he did, he wouldn't be alive to tell anybody."

Cersei shook her head. "Something isn't right, Jaime." She said, emotion getting to her. "Ned Stark coming here, Stannis and Renly leaving in the dead of night without a word, now this many soldiers… I'm worried for my children."

Jaime sighed, and placed a hand caressingly on her shoulder. "I promise, nothing is wrong." He told her. "But if it makes you feel any better, I'll guard you and the children personally. If anybody tries anything because of what they think they know…" He grabbed her wrist and put her hand against the hilt of his sword. "Then they shall taste my steel."

Cersei smiled, the words reassuring her. "Thank you." She whispered, taking his hand and squeezing to show she meant it.

* * *

While the White Harbour levies had marched directly to Moat Cailin Ned, Jon and Torrhen along with Robin Arryn had all ridden directly for Winterfell. They were slowed down slightly by the heir to the Vale's inability to ride, and so Torrhen was extremely relieved to see the towers of Winterfell surrounded by tents.

"How many do you think there are?" Jon asked, in awe.

"18,000." Torrhen said after a quick count.

Ned turned around to look at Torrhen with an impressed look on his face. "Good eyes." He noted. "It looks like the Karstarks are here too. Good."

He jeered his horse into a gallop, as the small group raced down towards the castle. They made the obligatory greetings as they arrived in the courtyard, and Ned quickly called a gathering of the Lords and commanders. Robb, Torrhen and Jon were stood to the side, listening in.

"My Lords." Ned greeted them all from the high table. "The time is here. Very soon King's Landing shall call upon us to march our banners South and into the Westerlands. I would have us ready. Already Lord Manderly and Lady Dustin have amassed their men at Moat Cailin, and as soon as we are able I would have us do the same. Lord Umber."

The Greatjon perked up at hearing his name. "Aye."

"You will lead the march down to the Moat, but you will be there to guide him. Take three quarters of the men gathered and set up on the Causeway."

The Greatjon grinned and nodded his agreement. "I'll have us there in no time."

A few more logistical orders were given, and soon enough it was just Ned and the young Starks in the Great Hall of Winterfell. Robb broke the silence first. "What are we to do?"

Ned straightened himself. "I need to stay here and finalise some things before I march, but as soon as we hear word from Jon Arryn in King's Landing we will group with the others and march down."

"All of us?" Jon asked.

Ned took a deep breath and shook his head. "No. Robb and Torrhen shall join me."

Jon gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, but he nodded his head. Torrhen just looked pointedly at Ned, who looked almost heartbroken. Breaking the silence, Torrhen clapped his hands together. "Well then, I guess we should get down and train Robb."

Robb noticed the tension in the air too and led Torrhen out of the room. They closed the door behind them, and Robb whispered almost immediately. "What's going on?"

"Father is going to tell him." Was all Torrhen could say. "Jon is finally going to know who he is."

* * *

It was time. King Robert had ridden out with most of his Kingsguard towards the Kingswood for a two-day hunt, and only Ser Jaime and Ser Meryn had been left behind in the Red Keep to guard the King's family. His absence however gave Jon Arryn the opportunity that they needed. As soon as he heard the hooves fade away he sat down at his desk and pulled out a letter from one of the drawers. It had four seals on the letter, the direwolf of House Stark, two stags of House Baratheon and the falcon and moon of House Arryn, Jon's own seal.

Setting the letter down on Jon's own bed with the seals facing upwards, he sighed before calling for his new squire, and waited patiently as the boy helped him into his armour for the first time since the battle at the Trident against Rhaegar Targaryen. He strapped his own sword onto his hip though, hoping that he wouldn't be forced to embarrass himself with it.

He left his chambers and saw one of his guards. "Roland." He greeted. "Are we ready?"

"We are, Lord Hand." The man nodded.

"Good." Jon said firmly. "Nobody exits or enters this tower unless they are either myself or the King himself. Not the Queen, not the Princes, not Lady Arryn, not even a serving girl. You are in a siege now."

"Yes, Lord Arryn." The dozen others in the small corridor chanted. Jon smiled grimly before making his way slowly down the steps to where his new soldiers had gathered.

"You all have your tasks." He called out. "See to them." Men in large groups darted off to different areas of the castle. Some to secure the armoury, some to secure the stables, some to ensure the Small Council stayed where they were and to subdue the Lannister soldiers roaming around the castle. Jon was left with around 20 of his finest men, Ser Vardis Egen at the front.

"Ser Vardis." Jon greeted.

"Lord Arryn. We are ready." The loyal knight bowed his head.

Jon nodded once. "Good, let us get this over with."

The elderly Lord let the way towards Maegor's holdfast with his men marching behind him. He ignored the stares of the servants, and thankfully the Baratheon guards knew him by face and let him be.

The lack of resistance ended as they got to the corridor outside of the Queen's chambers, where 5 men all in Lannister armour were standing. The captain, Vylarr, was the first to notice the armed Arryn forces arrival. "Lord Hand." The Westerlander greeted. "This is unexpected."

"Stand aside, Vylarr." Jon said firmly. "We don't need innocent blood spilled."

The other 4 Lannister men had surrounded Vylarr suspiciously, their hands on their sword hilts. "What is the meaning of this?" The Lannister man asked.

"The Queen is under arrest, Ser." Jon replied sternly. "I say again, stand aside."

"Under what charges?" Vylarr asked, his own hand on his sword hilt.

Jon listed them off. "Adultery, treason, incest."

"Lies." Vylarr scowled, unsheathing his blade. In a matter of a second the other Lannister men had their blades out, and a second after that the only man in the corridor to still have his weapon in his sheath was Jon. "Turn around, Lord Hand, and we'll forget all about this."

Jon just sighed, defeated. "I'm sorry, Vylarr. You deserve better than this." He turned to Ser Vardis. "Do it."

The Knight's of the Vale charged past Jon, as the Lannister men charged too. Swords clashed quickly as red liquid began to splatter against the walls and pool on the floor. Jon grimaced at the cries of the dying, but in a matter of moments it was done, and 12 men lay dead on the ground. The remaining 8 Valemen then charged through the door to find Jaime Lannister sat alone in his full Kingsguard armour and a sword across his lap.

"Lord Arryn." He said slowly. "This is most peculiar.

"Where is the Queen, Kingslayer?" Jon asked impatiently.

Jaime smirked, and scoffed a laugh. "And why would I tell you that?"

"It is your duty to the King you serve." Jon told the Lannister.

Jaime outright laughed at that. "The King I serve? That fat drunken monster? Come now, Lord Arryn. If you really know the truth as you believed it outside, you should know that I don't really serve King Robert, the First of his Name."

"No." Jon shook his head. "You serve your sister, or is she your lover?"

Jaime stood up, a wide grin on his face that didn't reach the rage in his green eyes. "You tell me."

"Take him alive." Jon ordered. Ser Vardis was the first one to reach Jaime, although he only lasted two clashes of the sword before his throat was opened and he choked on his own blood. The next two Valemen lasted even less time, with Jaime dodging the blows towards him as he stabbed the first one in the face with his sword, before pulling out a dagger with his left hand and thrusting it underneath the others chin. He withdrew both blades at the same time and waited for the men to drop to the floor with a thud, before shrugging at Jon.

The Arryn Lord withdrew his own sword, shaking slightly at the weight of it. In that time Jaime had decapitated another one of his men, before getting a scratch on his face at the hands of the fourth to face him. That just enraged him, as the Lannister swordsman carved through Jon's other guards like a hot knife through butter.

It hadn't gone to plan at all. Jon had planned on Jaime being away from Cersei and capturing the Queen and the children quickly before subduing Jaime on his own. Now all of his men were dead, and he was the only one left. Holding his sword out with both hands, He swung clumsily, old age having caught up with him. Jaime toyed with the old man, parrying the blow away. "You're weak, Lord Arryn."

"I've fought in many a war, Ser Jaime." Jon said sternly, swinging again and being parried again. "The Peake Uprising, the fourth and fifth Blackfyre Rebellions, the Rebellion." Jon swung again, with more power behind it and he almost surprised Jaime. "And I survived every one of them."

Jaime parried another blow and snarled, and with sheer pace he snapped his wrist downwards, disarming Jon Arryn before he plunged his sword deep into the elderly Lord's chest. Jon Arryn gasped, his hands coming to the blade deep in his body. Jaime leaned into Jon's ear, and just whispered. "Until me."

The Kingsguard knight pulled his sword out of Jon's torso and sheathed it once more, before he walked back into Cersei's chambers and pulled a candle sconce. Jon could only watch, blood filling his mouth, as the wall opened to reveal Cersei and the three young children. Jon held his hand out towards them. "Traitors." He whispered, his voice weak, before his breath left him and his hand slumped to the floor lifelessly.

* * *

The tunnels in between the walls of the Red Keep really weren't very wide. Sandor Clegane, Joffrey's sworn sword, led the way away from the room with all the dead Arryn's inside, and Jaime made up the rear, protecting them in case they were followed.

"Hurry up!" The Lannister male insisted through gritted teeth.

"Where are we going?" Cersei hissed in front of him.

Jaime rolled his eyes. "We have to get away from here, Cersei. You heard him, you heard what he wanted to arrest you for."

"But he's dead." Cersei had stopped and faced Jaime. "Why are we leaving?"

Jaime placed his hands roughly on her shoulders. "Jon Arryn is dead, in your chambers. The King's surrogate Father is dead. In YOUR chambers. What is Robert going to think of that?"

"We can tell him anything." Cersei insisted.

"Cersei." Jaime said exasperatedly. "Jon Arryn had hundreds of men in the castle. Do you really think none of them know why they are here? If we stay, we die. We'll go to Casterly Rock and regroup there. Father will know what to do."

"I'm the Prince!" Joffrey exclaimed from in front of them. "I can't leave!"

"You'll do as you're told." Clegane grunted. "Are we just going to stand here or are we going to move?"

Jaime looked at Cersei pleadingly. She seemed hesitant at first, but she soon nodded her head. Jaime breathed a sigh of relief and the party of 6 soon was on the move again.

They came out to a little cove, where a hunchback man with a hood was there waiting for them with a rowboat, an unconscious woman already inside it. Clegane instantly withdrew his sword and growled. "Move the fuck out of the way old man."

"Stand down, Clegane." Jaime ordered. "Varys here is helping us."

The bald eunuch lowered his hood and looked at them all with his creepy smile. "Of course I am, Ser Jaime. Your Grace."

"You." Cersei said harshly. "Why are you helping us?"

Varys looked at the three children. "With what Lord Arryn was planning, noisily, may I add, it was inevitable that the children would be put in harms way. I cannot abide the harm of children, Your Grace."

That warmed Cersei, as she turned to Jaime. "What now?"

"We sail to Rosby." Jaime replied. "From there we will have to travel as smallfolk until we get to the Westerlands. I don't know who we can trust, certainly not the Tyrell's." He turned to the petrified Myrcella and Tommen. "You need to get in the boat now, alright?" Myrcella nodded, grabbing Tommen's hand and stepping into the boat. "You too, Joffrey."

"Why?" Joffrey demanded to know. "Why are we fleeing? I'm to be King here I can't run!"

"Get in the damned boat." Clegane growled, grabbing Joffrey by the collar and flinging him in. Cersei made to complain but Jaime stopped her.

"If you don't want to lose your head, then you'll do as we say." He told both Joffrey and Cersei. His sister huffed but picked up her skirts and sat down next to her eldest. Clegane got in next, picking up the oars, and Jaime turned to Varys. "Thank you." He said.

"I did it for the children, Ser Jaime. Just don't get caught." Varys said warningly.

Jaime just nodded before pushing the boat further into the water so it was floating. He climbed in as well as Sandor began rowing northwards. He watched as Cersei stared at the Red Keep disappearing in the distance wondering if he had made the right decision, a thought that disappeared as soon as he heard the bells begin to ring.

* * *

The giant gate creaked loudly as it heaved open to show the party the vast open space that was North of the Wall. Ser Waymar Royce led them; the young man having joined the Night's Watch recently had been chosen to lead his first ranging North of the Wall. In his group was Gared, Will, Artos Flint and Ulmer. Normally he would have only been in command of 2 men, but the known dangers out in the wild were no longer just Wildlings, and so the First Ranger had changed policy.

They were tracking Wildling raiders in the Haunted Forest and had to travel into the large woodland area for a couple of days before they found anything of note. Will, the scout, had ridden off with Ulmer, a man who had once been in the Kingswood Brotherhood and was a skilled archer, while the other three made camp. Gared was keeping watch, and Waymar was rubbing his gloved hands together, trying to keep himself warm.

"You southerners." Artos Flint chuckled. "You would never survive a Northern winter."

Waymar smirked. "At least we have you here to teach us all how to survive, Artos." The Mountain Clansman just grunted as he sharpened his sword, and the only noises that Waymar could hear were the rustling of the leaves, along with a faint thundering of hooves.

Waymar turned to the direction of the noise to see both Will and Ulmer galloping towards them. Gared walked towards Waymar too, and all 5 were soon huddled in a circle.

"M… ma… massacre." Will shivered.

Waymar scoffed. "What do you expect?" He asked. "They're savages. One lot steals a goat from another lot and before you know it, they're ripping each other to pieces."

Will wasn't to be dissuaded, however. "I've never seen Wildlings do a thing like this." He told Waymar. "I've never seen a thing like this, not ever in my life."

"How close did you get?" Waymar asked.

"Close as any man would." Was Will's answer.

Ulmer agreed. "It wasn't natural." He said. "They were all dismembered, laid out in a pattern."

That sent chills down the other men's spines. "We should head back to the Wall." Gared suggested.

Waymar however, heard his Father bemoaning him for a coward in his head. It was his first ranging; he wouldn't run at the first sign of any trouble. "Do the dead frighten you?" He mocked.

"Our orders were to track the Wildlings." Gared responded unamused. "We tracked them. They won't trouble us no more."

"You don't think Stark will ask us how they died?" Royce asked. "Get back on your horse."

Will wasn't having it though, as he moved closer to Waymar and exclaimed. "Whatever did it to them could do it to us! They even killed the children!"

"We know what did it to them." Artos Flint muttered.

Waymar glared at him. "If they exist, they have never been this far South before. More likely it was a pissing contest that turned nasty." He turned back to Will. "We have a job to do. Either get back on your horse or run away. Of course, they will behead you as a deserter if you get caught." Will had no choice, and the 5 of them mounted. The scout let them back to the campsite that he and Ulmer had found the dead bodies, and to their surprise it was empty. Even Waymar was growing more concerned. "Are you sure it was here?" He asked.

"Positive." Will told him, and Ulmer nodded. "They was here." He pointed to a tree. "The girl was hanging there."

All of them had their swords in their hands, and Waymar pulled out the only Dragonglass dagger that the group had been given as he looked around nervously. "Find them, they can't have gone far."

They split up, each walking in a different direction away from the camp. Waymar was relying on all of his training both at Runestone and Castle Black to listen out for any noises. He didn't need to strain though, as a piercing scream came from his left.

Waymar raced towards the scream and bumped into Artos Flint as he ran. Ulmer was soon with them too.

"Who was it?" Flint asked.

"Not Will." Ulmer grunted. "He ran as soon as he heard.

Waymar cursed. "Fucking coward."

"There." Artos Flint pointed behind Waymar, who turned to see the silhouette of Gared in the distance.

Ulmer made a move towards Gared and called his name. "Gared! What are you doing?"

Artos had noticed something on the floor however and knelt down to inspect it. "Royce." He called.

"What?" Waymar asked.

"Blood. Fresh blood." Artos was shaking now as he looked back to Gared.

Waymar realised what he was getting at and looked to see Ulmer nearing the silhouette. "Ulmer get back!"

It was too late though. Gared's head lifted and even from the distance that the other two were, they could see the bright blue eyes. Gared then screamed a monstrous scream, unlike anything that Waymar had ever heard, and raced with a speed that Gared had never before possessed towards Ulmer, who was too shocked to do anything but stand there and have his throat torn out by his now undead brother.

"Fuck!" Artos swore, his sword out in front of him. Waymar raced forwards, swinging his steel sword to sever Gared's arm, before thrusting the Dragonglass dagger into Gared's chest. The body dropped almost suddenly, and Waymar breathed a sigh of relief. He then plunged the dagger into Ulmer's heart, to stop the same from happening to him.

He shouldn't have relaxed however, as the squelch of blood was heard from behind him. Waymar turned quickly to see what could only be described as a demon holding the Northerners head in the air, as his body slumped to the ground. Waymar could only watch on in sheer terror as the demon threw Artos' head towards him.

"Remember your training." Waymar whispered. "Remember your training." He stood up straight and took a deep breath, before charging at the demon with a scream.

It was the last thing that Ser Waymar Royce ever did.

* * *

**So before this chapter I've counted that I'd killed off less than ten people so far in the story, with only 4 of them named. This chapter I believe takes the total up to 26… that's how bloodthirsty this was!**

**I couldn't have Jon just take Cersei and the children easily, could I? No, with Jon being fairly noisy to Varys he realised what was about to happen and made precautions so that the children could be safe, but unfortunately for Varys that meant saving Cersei too. **

**Jon also found out the truth just after that scene. I've already written him finding out many a time so I feel like the conversation is best left up to the imagination, but we will get his feelings and the aftermath next chapter.**

**And finally, this stories version of the first scene of the show. With the knowledge of what was out there I added a couple of characters to the party and obviously Royce is more believing of the threat, but a handful of scared men are no match for a White Walker…**

**Thanks to the few of you that reviewed last chapter, and I hope you all enjoyed this one.**

**Next time: King Robert returns to the Red Keep; Jon makes an important decision and the Stark's each get a pet…**

**Reviews:**

**Rolling Mist 13: I'm sorry for killing him just after you said you loved that he was still alive! Yeah Bran and Shireen were fun, and I hope I portrayed pre-teen friendship well enough haha. **

**Bad Ass Female Fighter: They are! It's a shame that there's going to be a war to fight, I'd almost love for them to keep their innocence.**

**Guest (Torrhen/Mira/Daenerys): No. Torrhen will only be with Mira in this story.**

**Jon Snow: I presume you were the same guest to review these chapters all so quickly. Thank you!**


	21. Direwolves

**As you can probably tell by the title of the chapter, this is a huge chapter for the Starks of Winterfell. Just before that though, after the drama of last chapter we'll see King's Landing and Robert Baratheon.**

**I'm enjoying this story so much at the moment, so much so that for the first time in a long time I've actually got a buffer of chapters on this story. Hopefully this lasts for a long time, but my writing schedule has pretty much always been erratic, so we'll see.**

**I own nothing but Torrhen Stark.**

* * *

King Robert Baratheon never really expected a grand welcome back to King's Landing every time he went hunting, the Sack of King's Landing had seen to that. Even so, he expected more than for all the citizens of the city to be hiding away. He led the group up Aegon's High Hill and towards the Red Keep, and what met him as he neared his castle shocked him to his core. Up high on Traitor's Walk was the head of his foster Father, his Hand of the King, Jon Arryn.

"Ser Barristan." He called his Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. "Tell me I'm seeing things."

Ser Barristan couldn't. "To arms." He called, and the 5 Kingsguard that he had taken with him all unsheathed their blades. Robert dismounted, bringing his own sword out of its sheath and he walked through the main gates.

He was greeted by Lord Baelish, who was deep in discussion with Janos Slynt, the commander of the Gold Cloaks. Baelish noticed him storm in flanked by his Kingsguard, and quickly turned to face him. "Your Grace…"

"What the FUCK has happened here, Littlefinger?" Robert bellowed. "I've been gone two days. Two fucking days!"

"Well… that's just it. We don't know." Baelish admitted. "As soon as you left Lord Arryn's men and the Queen's men just started battling in the Red Keep. Corridors were drenched with blood. It took the Gold Cloaks marching in to put a stop to the violence."

"And why is Jon Arryn's head on a SHITTING SPIKE?" Robert screamed, saliva flying from his mouth.

Littlefinger placed his hands together almost apologetically. "I did send somebody to take that down. Honestly Your Grace I'm as perplexed as you are. The Tower of the Hand is closed off by Lord Arryn's men and they aren't letting anybody in. Lady Arryn has vanished, presumed dead and the Queen, the Kingslayer and the Princes and Princess have all disappeared too, in fear of their lives."

Robert was fuming. Not knowing what to think, he stormed past Baelish and thundered towards the Tower of the Hand. There were dozens of Arryn men standing off with Gold Cloaks, but all of them moved aside once the King arrived on the scene. He shoved past the men at the gates and stomped up to Jon's rooms. He looked around, feeling the tears and the anger in his eyes. Wiping the tears away, he turned to Barristan who followed him in. "Secure the corridor. Nobody in or out until I figure out what the fuck to do."

Barristan bowed and shut the door behind him, meaning that Robert could finally let his emotions go. He clenched his fists together before slamming them down on the main table, smashing it in two with the force. He then picked up one of the remnants and threw it against the wall with a roar.

His face was red and his eyes stinging from the tears, and he walked through the room looking for more things to smash. He came into Jon's bedroom expecting some breakable objects when he saw a letter propped up against the pillows. He went over to it and picked it up, seeing his name written above four seals. Ned's, Jon's, Stannis' and Renly's. Intrigued he sat down on the bed, breaking them all and unravelling the parchment.

_Robert,_

_If you are reading this then it means the worst has happened and I haven't lived long enough to be able to tell you the truth in person. Do not mourn for me, my son, as you have much bigger things to worry about than the death of an old man._

_We have been deceived. I can only beg for your forgiveness that I didn't see it sooner, that I didn't stop it sooner. I must also ask that you forgive me for making you marry Cersei in the first place when you were adamant against it. The woman is a traitor, a cuckolder. She committed incest in the bed of King's and passed off the Kingslayer's spawn as your own. I do not make these claims lightly my boy, both myself and Stannis worked tirelessly towards the end of my life to prove these facts true. Your promiscuous activities have proven to be fruitful, and a number of your bastards have given us the proof we need. The seed is strong, my old friend. Every Baratheon to have lived has produced offspring black of hair and blue of eye. Every single one of your bastard children are the same, along with every Baratheon Lannister union in history._

_I am so sorry I could not be there to tell you this in person, but do not wallow or it will be your doom. You are amongst more traitors than just the Lannisters, Robert. Littlefinger has been stealing off of us and is up to something that only the Seven can work out. Varys has always had too many secrets and Pycelle… well I don't need to warn you about him._

_Go North to Ned, who knows as much, if not more than I do. Get as far away from this city as you can until you have an army larger than that of the Rebellion. You have not had a happy Kingship, but now is the time to show the realm why we chose you. Why I chose you._

_We have had our troubles, but I will forever be grateful for your Father allowing me to foster you. You have been a true son to me, Robert._

_With all my love and loyalty,_

_Jon Arryn, Hand of the King._

He sat there for what must have been over an hour, reading and rereading the words until they were seared into his brain. Treason, incest, bastards, Ned. It came back to Ned.

"BARRISTAN!" Robert roared. A moment later the old knight himself was in the room.

"Your Grace."

Robert thrust the letter into his hands. "Read." He commanded.

Barristan did as he was ordered, and he couldn't help the gasps. "Treason… I can't believe it."

"Under my own nose." Robert growled. "That wanton WHORE!"

Barristan was downcast. "I should have seen something Your Grace… he was my sworn brother."

Robert shook his head. "No longer, his life is forfeit. As is hers." He took back the paper and placed it in a pocket in his clothing. "Prep the Kingsguard and my own household knights only, and don't tell anybody else a single thing. We ride North as soon as everybody is ready. I must have words with Ned Stark."

* * *

Torrhen didn't realise that it was the day until Theon had come to find him to tell him to saddle his horse. Realisation set in immediately, and he quickly bade Sansa farewell before he went to prepare his jet black destrier, who he had amusingly named Obsidian.

The party rode through the Wolfswood to the execution block that had sat there for thousands of years, and Torrhen watched on in silence as deja vu kicked in for the first time in a couple of years. The same member of the Night's Watch was babbling about the White Walker's, and Ned gave him his final rites before swinging Ice and severing the man's head.

"Burn the body." Ned ordered one of the guardsmen, before handing Ice back to Theon and joining his sons and Jon by their horses.

"It seems pointless, executing a man when we need everyone we can possibly get for this fight." Torrhen noted.

"He swore an oath." Ned explained. "And he was to be of no use to us, the poor boy was maddened."

"He saw them." Torrhen said. "I never took any notice of it before, but it's obvious now."

Ned just nodded. "Mount up, let's get back by mid-afternoon."

Torrhen did as he asked, but he could barely contain himself as they rode back through the Wolfswood. Even as they saw the dead stag in the road, he was excitable. He dismounted and waited as Ned inspected the dead animal, looking at Torrhen as he did so. Torrhen just nodded the once and led the group down the path towards the stream where the dead mother direwolf lay, the antler in her throat once more and her babes were suckling at her teats.

"It's a freak!" Theon complained.

"It's a direwolf." Ned explained. "Tough old beast." He strained as he pulled the antler out.

Robb was concerned. "There are no direwolves south of the Wall."

"Now there are 7." Jon commented, picking up Summer.

Torrhen knelt down before the carcass, eyeing up the jet black direwolf, his own direwolf, Balerion. The baby direwolf stopped suckling and turned to face Torrhen. "Hello old friend." Torrhen whispered, emotion filling him. He held out his gloved hand and let Balerion sniff him, before the baby jumped up into his arms.

"It's a sign from the Gods." Ned told them all. "7 direwolves, 7 Stark children."

"Seven?" Torrhen asked, having not listened to Jon beforehand. There had only been 6 last time. But there, closest to the dead mother's belly was a direwolf with bright red fur. "Of course… Sara." He whispered.

Robb looked at Torrhen oddly, before he too knelt down and picked out Grey Wind. "Is this him?" He whispered to Torrhen so nobody else could hear. Torrhen just nodded. Robb smirked. "I feel this one in my mind." He said louder. "This one is mine."

"Are we sure we should let them live?" Jory asked Ned.

Ned just nodded. "Look at them, the connection is clear and we've only just come across them." He threw the antler down on the ground. "Take the pups and keep them warm, the children can choose their wolves when we get back."

Torrhen grabbed Lady too and walked back up to his horse, placing them both in his satchel with their heads poking out. He mounted up once more to see Robb had Grey Wind and Shaggydog, while Ned had taken Nymeria and Summer. Jon was the last to reach the road again, and Torrhen grinned as he held Ghost in his arms alongside the red pup. Torrhen looked down at Balerion once more, who was watching Torrhen with a cocked head, and the Stark boy just grinned, kicking his horse into movement as he raced back to Winterfell.

Once he arrived into the castle Torrhen took his satchel and sprinted towards Sansa's room. He did their knock, rapping five times on the door. He waited until he heard the three knocks from Sansa, and the door swung open.

"What are you doing here?" She asked him.

"I've got a present for you." He smirked.

Sansa didn't look amused. "I'm in the middle of making a dress for Jeyne, Tor. I don't have time for you to throw mud in my face or whatever it is you have planned."

Torrhen pouted. "Would I really be so cruel?"

Sansa looked at him pointedly. "Yes."

Chuckling, Torrhen reached behind him. "I promise it's a good gift." He insisted, bringing Lady around.

Sansa instantly melted. "Aww a puppy!" She squealed.

"A direwolf." Torrhen corrected as he handed over the creature. "We found seven on the road. This one is yours. Her name is Lady."

Sansa held Lady up to her face. "Hello Lady." She cooed. "A perfect name for a perfect direwolf."

Torrhen brought Balerion out of the satchel too and sat him down on the floor. "Mine is Balerion." He told her.

"Of course you'd name a wolf after a dragon." Sansa rolled her eyes. "Are they really ours?"

"Aye, we've all got one, even little Sara." Torrhen grinned. "We must look after them ourselves though, no help from Farlen."

Sansa placed Lady on the bed, and the direwolf sat up straight. "She's so good!"

"Takes after her mistress." Torrhen noted. Balerion jumped up on the bed too and nudged Lady over, and the two began playfighting.

"As does Balerion it seems." Sansa said with a chuckle. She moved to hug Torrhen. "Thank you, I love her!"

Torrhen grinned, hugging his twin back before settling down on the bed as he began to explain exactly how they found the direwolves.

* * *

While Torrhen was giving Lady to Sansa, Ned watched as Jon immediately handed the red pup to Robb before taking off for the crypts. Sighing, he knew that he had to speak to Jon about their last conversation and handed the two pups that he had carried into the castle over to Robb. "See that Arya and Rickon get their wolves and understand their responsibilities."

Robb nodded, looking over at the retreating Jon. "He will be ok, won't he?"

Ned nodded, though his smile was an uneasy one. "It's a big shock. I lied to him his entire life."

"To keep him safe." Robb said pointedly. "He knows that deep down."

Ned gripped Robb's shoulder and nodded, before he turned to follow Jon down to the crypts. The younger man was sat by Lyanna's tomb, stroking the calm albino direwolf as he looked up at the statue.

"I don't know what to think." Jon admitted, hearing Ned's slowing footsteps.

"Explain it all then." Ned suggested. "Everything you're feeling."

Jon sighed. "Anger. I feel so angry that it was kept from me, that for so long I thought I was a stain on your honour, that Lady Catelyn rightfully hated me. I felt angry that you would never talk to me about my Mother, that you dismissed me almost. But I feel sadness too, sad that my Mother is dead, sad for you that every time you see me you must see her."

"I do." Ned admitted. Now was the time for complete honesty. "But I see it in Arya too. They are so alike it scares me sometimes. But you, while you look like Lyanna, you act more like him."

"Like Rhaegar?" Jon asked. "My… sire." He couldn't bring himself to say the title for a man he didn't know."

"He brooded like you I am told." Ned chuckled lightly. "He was a fine swordsman too. But your movements, the way you hold yourself despite everything you've felt all your life, that's Rhaegar."

"He's not my Father." Jon said adamantly. Ned went to say something, but Jon stopped him. "I know he is really, but he's not at the same time." Jon stood up, facing Ned. "I may still feel angry that you kept it from me, but I understand why."

"I lost her." Ned said weakly. "I wasn't going to lose you too. You may not be my son, Jon, but you are my blood."

"And you are my Father." Jon told Ned. "Now and always. You raised me as your own when you didn't have to. I owe you my life."

"You owe me nothing." Ned insisted. "I am truly sorry, Jon."

Jon smiled. "I know."

They both stared back at the statue for what seemed like an age, until Ned needed to ask the question on his mind. "Have you decided what you are going to do?"

Jon nodded. "I have. It is so tempting to stay here, to look after Rickon and the girls. But I'm not needed here, am I?"

Ned shook his head with a smile. "I'd love nothing more than for you to come with me, but I took you in to keep you from Robert. To march down South after everything…"

"It seems detrimental to your choices over the years." Jon finished. "No, I shall go where I am needed. Where I can be both Jon Snow and the son of Lyanna Stark. I'll travel to Pentos and protect my aunt."

Ned smiled, gripping Jon on the shoulder as a mark of respect. "You're a braver man than I, Jon."

"I doubt that." Jon laughed, before sighing. "Why do you care if she lives though? If you know where she is, shouldn't you have told the King?"

"I should have." Ned admitted. "But then I think of you, knowing that they are your family. I think of Aegon and Rhaenys' bodies and I feel ill. The one thing Robert and I would never agree on was that the sins of the Fathers were not the sins of the children. If I told him where they were he would give them painful, painful deaths and I couldn't have that on my conscience."

Jon was thankful for that. "I'm oddly excited, is that normal?"

"Of course it is." Ned chuckled. "While we will always be your family, so will the Targaryen's across the sea. Go and know them, go and have incredible adventures. Just be sure to be back here when the true war starts."

"I will, Father." Jon promised, staring back at his Mother's statue. "I will."

* * *

"What does the letter say?"

Edmure Tully was furious. The letter from King's Landing signed by Littlefinger was as brief as anything that he had ever read in his life. His uncle, Ser Brynden read it out again as Edmure paced in the main hall of Riverrun. "Lord Tully, I regret to inform you that Lord Jon and Lady Lysa was murdered by Lannister forces in a skirmish in the Red Keep."

"Murdered." Edmure growled. "How? How has she been murdered?"

"Edmure!" The Blackfish raised his voice, snapping the younger man's attention to him. "Calm yourself. You are the acting Lord of Riverrun now, rationalise your thoughts."

Hoster Tully was bed ridden and weak, so Edmure as expected had risen up to the challenge of taking over until his Father improved. "Why is Littlefinger writing to us?" He asked, still in his rage. "Why not Pycelle? Or Robert himself. His Hand is dead! Where is he?"

"Likely dealing with the aftermath." The Blackfish countered. "The question isn't where is he. It is what are you going to do?"

Edmure huffed angrily, pounding the stone walls. "This cannot go unanswered." He insisted.

"No, it cannot." The Blackfish encouraged.

"Cat's boy, Torrhen." Edmure remembered. "He warned us about war. He said that Ned Stark was preparing."

"As have we." The Blackfish added. "You have a son now, an heir."

Edmure nodded, thinking on little Axel Tully. "Vyman!" He called.

The elderly Maester was in the corner of the room waiting to be called upon, and he moved closer to the two Tully's when he was called. "Lord Edmure?"

"Send word to Lords Vance and Piper. Have them gather their forces on the border close to the Golden Tooth. Have Lord Smallwood join them. And call the rest of the banners to Riverrun."

"All of them, My Lord?" Vyman asked.

Edmure nodded. "The Lannisters insult us by murdering my sister. Lord Stark may be gathering men, but it will take them time to get to where they are needed. We will answer this insult with Lannister blood." He looked to his uncle, who just nodded once in acceptance. The heir to Riverrun looked up at his Father's chair, seeing the Valyrian Steel blade hanging up above it. It had been placed up there after Torrhen had left the Riverlands and hadn't been touched since. Edmure strode up to the sword and took it down, holding the intricate silver hilt and running his fingers over both the sapphire in its pommel and the scaled trout that was the cross guard. He attached the sheathed sword to his belt and turned to face his uncle. "For family."

"For family." Ser Brynden smirked.

* * *

The news also reached Dragonstone fairly quickly, where Stannis and Renly sat alone in the Chamber of the Painted Table to discuss their options.

"We need to tell Robert everything." Renly insisted. "It would be better coming from us. Let's head to King's Landing now and explain…"

"Robert won't be in King's Landing." Stannis told his brother. "He'll ride up North to be with the only man he trusts."

"Then what do we do?" Renly threw his hands up in exasperation. "We have the Royal Fleet. Let's sail in and secure King's Landing."

Stannis was growing impatient. He threw the letter in front of Renly. "Read that again. If Robert doesn't trust King's Landing what is my small army going to do?"

"We can't do nothing." Renly spat back.

"We won't." Stannis said, standing up and staring intently at the Blackwater Bay part of the table. "Ned Stark has his army gathering. Hoster Tully will call the banners for his daughter and the Vale will want justice too. They will take the war into the West. What we need, is an army in the South." He placed a stag symbol onto Storm's End. "We sail for home, Renly. We gather your banners and then we march up the King's Road and we root out everybody that Robert doesn't trust. Smallfolk to Small Council members, we ensure that none of them can betray our brother."

"We should go now." Renly said stubbornly.

"Tywin Lannister was Hand of the King for 20 years." Stannis explained. "Do you really think he just packed up and left without ensuring he had people there to see out his interests? If we go and just take over after Robert left for a reason, then you're a greater fool than I took you for."

Renly shoved his seat back roughly and stood up, glaring. "Have care, Stannis."

"Sit down. I'm explaining." Stannis said, not impressed by the show. "Pycelle is a Lannister man. Littlefinger works only for Littlefinger. Varys is a mystery. It would be up to us and probably 2,000 men against whoever Tywin Lannister can bribe, be that a dagger in the dark or all of the sellsword companies in Essos. No, I will not risk a Baratheon life unless we have the men to take and defend the city against whomever comes for us. Let them rot for now. We go for Storm's End and rally the Stormlands, and then we take the city back."

"Then what?" Renly asked. Stannis looked at him questioningly. "We take the city, do Robert's dirty work for him and then what?"

"We find Robert a new wife." Stannis presumed.

Renly smirked. "I know just the woman."

"No." Stannis said quickly.

"She's perfect for him!"

"She's a Tyrell." Stannis snapped. "They tried to starve us, Renly. They feasted outside our walls while we licked leather!"

Renly stared at his brother and spoke calmly. "They did what they were bid by their King, as we did as bid by ours. It was 20 years ago, Stannis. Margaery isn't her Father. She comes from a wealthy family that will inevitably be one of the most powerful in the realm after this war. It makes sense."

The worst thing about it was Stannis knew he was right. He sat back down in his seat and put his face in his hands. "Fine." He said through gritted teeth. "Send the raven."

Renly grinned, clapping his hands together. "I knew you'd come around eventually, brother!"

"I'm going to regret this." Stannis groaned. "Send the raven and then prepare yourself. We leave for Storm's End at dawn."

* * *

**DIREWOLVES! Finally, after 21 chapters we've reached the point in the show where the direwolves are born. It's been a long time coming I know but I needed all the necessary set up beforehand. As a side note, yes all of the Starks have the capability to warg, but of course some are better at it than others. Of course, with Ned having a seventh child there is an extra wolf. If anybody wants to name the red pup as a 1 year old might, then please be my guest!**

**Robert also found out what's gone on in the last chapter, and now he knows about Cersei and Jaime. That note was tough to write, a lot of emotion went into that. Robert also knows that he can't trust anybody in the Capital, so like in the show he goes to the one person he knows, or thought, he could trust.**

**Somebody has sent ravens out to all of the major castles saying that Lysa was murdered alongside Jon by the Lannisters… who would want to spread the seeds of war I wonder?**

**I hope you all enjoyed it. Next time things really start to kick off as the century turns, Robert arrives in the North and the war begins in earnest. Oh, and there's a wedding to be held.**

**Reviews:**

**spectre4hire (Chapter 13): I think Cat seeing Jon as something other than her shame allows her to be a bit more realistic about who Jon is, and that coupled with the knowledge that he is the Mad King's legitimate heir scares her a bit. What if he takes his birth right and wants revenge on her neglection of him? **

**ZabuzasGirl: Yes I did, otherwise this war would be even more one sided than it's looking like it already is… Jaime is an exceptional swordsman and Varys hates the idea of children dying, so to me it made sense.**

**10868letsgo: In his defence I don't know how easy it was under the Mad King's paranoid reign to smuggle Elia and the children out when Aerys had specifically kept them close. Robert is a much more lax King and he wasn't even there, so smuggling Jaime, Cersei and the children out being easier made more sense.**

**Hear My Fury: It was either leave and survive or stay and die. They chose to live. Tywin may have little support, but he has lots of money as Stannis alludes too in this chapter. Edmure won't get his memories back, but Torrhen was on that campaign for the most part, so will have a few tricks up his sleeve too.**

**Sandmanwake: In such close quarters even swords were probably the wrong weapon, but even so the honour of the Knights of the Vale pretty much dictates that they go one on one with their opponent and not shoot from such a distance. **

**Bad Ass Female Fighter: In his defence, this is breeding more chaos than simply arresting the Lannisters would have done and has torn the realm into inevitable war.**

**Lightningscar: If Olenna is making him, then I'm sure he would haha, but more on that next chapter. It's better to clench your teeth and get it over with than have your Grandmother in the room making sure you're doing it after all! As for your vision guesses, there are some really interesting takes in those. I won't say if you're right, but I like them all. Bran may not be the Three Eyed Raven in this story, but he's not disabled and has access to some excellent mentors, his story will be really fun to write and I'm really looking forward to it. Knowing he (was, if not still is) your favourite character that may not be the same for you considering the direction I take him, but he'll have some epic moments. As for it going smoothly, this is sort of a 'fix it fic', so while there will be some true 'Game of Thrones' moments, it won't go horrifically for the Starks for the most part. I'm glad you thought Jaime destroying everyone was believable.**

**Black Magic99: I have a plan for Joffrey…**


	22. Wars and Weddings

**WARNING! IMPLIED UNDERAGE SEX IN THIS CHAPTER! While Torrhen and Mira mentally are around 20 years old, their bodies here are 13. While it's not impossible for people to have sex at that age and while in Westeros' society it's almost encouraged as soon as the woman menstruates and the man can 'get it up', for us in the real world it's still uncomfortable. As always I try to leave things to the imagination, but in this world, in this chapter, it happens.**

**I own nothing but Torrhen, everyone else belongs to HBO or George R R Martin.**

* * *

**300 AC**

The scene around him reminded Torrhen of a more militarised version of King Robert's arrival at Winterfell in his past life. This time however, he was stood in the large courtyard of Moat Cailin facing the River Gate, the newly named gate that led towards the Riverlands and the rest of Westeros. He was in the middle of the gathering of Northern Lords and commanders as was his right as the Lord of Moat Cailin, and his Father was stood to his right. Torrhen looked around at the fortress around him. The two Southernmost towers had already been completed, duly named the Merman's Tower and the Weeping Tower. Eventually they would be the homes of House Manderly and vassals, and House Bolton and vassals respectively, but for now the gathered Lords just slept where they could. The huge 100ft walls had also been built up, save for the spaces where the other 7 towers would be erected. Work was usually still going on around them, and at a much faster pace than normal due to the sheer numbers of men around Moat Calin.

They had managed to gather around 30,000 Northmen to Moat Cailin, around double as many men as Torrhen had ever marched under before. Tents were dotted along the Northern Kingsroad and on any habitable space around the bogs surrounding the Moat.

They had received word of King Robert's journey Northwards not long after Jon had left Winterfell with Jory Cassell, and they had been at Moat Cailin for around a fortnight by now. Torrhen breathed deeply as he waited, looking up to one of the windows in the main keep, where he saw Mira was holding up Balerion so that the direwolf could see what was going on. Torrhen just smirked before facing back to the main gate.

"OPEN THE GATE!" One of the Manderly men manning the River Gate called, and Torrhen watched on as the main portcullis was raised alongside the solid metal gate, and finally the wooden doors were pulled open by soldiers to reveal King Robert Baratheon riding his horse surrounded by 5 of his Kingsguard. Torrhen immediately sank to one knee, as did all the other Lords in attendance. King Robert quickly dismounted his horse and walked towards them, stopping in front of Ned and bidding them all to rise. Torrhen quickly noted that he thought the King looked slightly thinner than he had done in King's Landing, but only slightly.

"You and I need to have a serious discussion." Robert said sternly but quietly to Ned.

Ned just nodded. "We do, Your Grace."

Robert looked around at the castle and nodded his head. "Impressive. You've put a lot of work into this place."

"It is the first point of defence for the North, Your Grace." Torrhen added his input. "The castle should be worthy of that title."

"Hmm. I certainly wouldn't want to attack it." Robert noted. He then looked back at Ned, a stern look on his face. "Inside. Now."

Ned bowed his head and nodded to Torrhen, who led the way to his new War Chamber. Inside was a large circular table right in the centre of the room with a map of the entirety of Westeros pinned down. Figures had been placed on the map in the regular war council meetings that the Northmen had been having. Torrhen found his spot and looked around at the banners hanging on the walls. All the Northern Houses bar the Mountain Clans were hanging, lit by the braziers on the walls beside each banner. House Baratheon had the largest banner in the centre of one of the walls, flanked by both the main banner of House Stark and Torrhen's personal banner that he had taken as the sigil for his cadet branch of House Stark. Ned and Robb stood either side of Torrhen, while Robert and Ser Barristan stood the other side of the table, the other Kingsguard having been ordered to wait outside. The only other occupant of the room was Maester Pylos, who was in the corner documenting the meeting and waiting to be commanded.

Robert broke the silence first. He pulled out a letter and threw it on the table. "Jon Arryn was murdered."

Ned bowed his head, the emotions still fresh. "We received the news. Slain by Lannisters alongside Lysa we have been told."

Robert shook his head. "If Lysa is dead, her body hadn't been found when I left. Seven Hells Ned, I leave for a hunting trip for two days and when I come back the Red Keep is a warzone, Littlefinger of all people is in charge and I find out that my best friend, my brothers and my Hand have been conspiring together!"

Ned looked apologetic. "What we did in keeping it from you was for your own safety."

"JON ARRYN IS DEAD!" Robert roared. "YOU KEEPING THIS FROM ME KILLED OUR MENTOR!"

"Jon knew the risks." Ned bit back firmly. "He was at peace with it if the worst happened."

Robert swallowed a large part of his anger and clenched his fists. "Tell me now. Tell me everything."

And Ned told him the preconceived story. He explained about Torrhen's Greenseer abilities and his trip to the Isle of Faces, he explained about the visions of Jaime and Cersei cuckolding the King, and then explained about Jon and Stannis' investigation into Robert's bastards. "By the time Jon checked the book, it was obvious. You've been made a fool of by the Queen and we knew that to just tell you while surrounded by Lannister's would be a death wish for all of us. We gathered our men for you to ensure that Tywin, Cersei or any Lannister wouldn't understand that we were on to them."

Robert sighed; a lot of his anger having left him during the explanation. He turned to Torrhen. "You really see things?"

Torrhen nodded. "I don't choose what I can see, but usually they are of some importance to me and my House. I saw Jon Arryn die and you chose Father to be your new hand, a decision that would kill you both and send the realm into chaos once Joffrey took the Throne."

"Fuck." Robert cursed. He looked to the map. "You've been busy." He noted.

"Lord Royce has been in contact. They're gathering 15,000 Knights of the Vale to aid us. Lord Tully is gathering his men in your name too. Tywin will have no luck getting to us through the Riverlands." Ned explained.

"Has he declared war?" Robert asked.

"It's only a matter of time." Robb said.

"Aye, Jon wasn't idle, waiting to die. He put contingencies in place." Ned explained. "Before he died he managed to get the High Septon to annul your marriage to Cersei and gave the proof to Stannis who has sent it to the realm. By all your religious laws, her bastards have no claim on the Iron Throne. You are an unwed man."

He passed the relevant letter to Robert, who read it. He couldn't even bring himself to be happy. "They will pay for this insult, Ned. Both Cersei and the Kingslayer will wish that they died as quickly as Rhaegar Targaryen did by the time I'm done."

"As is your right." Ned bowed his head.

"What about Stannis, what are my brothers doing?" Robert asked.

Torrhen pointed to the Dragonstone part of the map. "Stannis has gathered an armada, so if Tywin Lannister does somehow manage to ally with the Greyjoy's then we have a force to counter that."

"We don't expect that to be the case though." Ned added. "My wife has ensured that Balon's heir is under constant guard in Winterfell."

"Other than that, we have had no word from Stannis." Torrhen told the King.

Robert grunted. "You have ravens here?" Torrhen nodded. "Get your Maester to write this down."

"Pylos." Torrhen called. The young man moved to the table and had parchment and a quill ready.

"To Storm's End, give an order to call their banners. Half are to secure King's Landing, half to ensure that the Dornish or the Reach don't get any ideas." Robert explained. Torrhen had to give it to him, this was a side of the King that he had never seen before, and it was awe inspiring how the man could think in war like situations. "And send a raven to Casterly Rock."

"To the Lannisters?" Ned asked, surprised.

"Whatever his faults, or his children's faults, Tywin Lannister still bent the knee to me." Robert explained. "This is a courtesy, that's all. Ask him to arrest his children and present them to me for judgement. Any failure to do so and I will bring the might of Westeros to Casterly Rock."

Pylos was a pacey writer and was finished a few seconds after Robert had finished. "Is there anything else, Your Grace."

Robert shook his head. "Not for now." He turned to Ned. "What are your numbers?"

Robb was the one to answer. "We have 30,000 men at the Moat, Your Grace. Another few thousand are manning the western shores to counter against any potential Ironborn problems."

"So many?" Robert was surprised.

Ned nodded. "We've had almost 3 years to prepare for this, Robert. While the silence was unfortunate, it was necessary to build up our defences and also to gather and train our men quickly."

Robert was impressed. "Very well. We'll rest up and decide our next moves within the week. I want a response from Casterly Rock before we march."

"Your Grace." Ned bowed.

"Rooms have been prepared for you, Your Grace." Torrhen explained. "I'll show you to them, if you like?"

Robert nodded, and followed Torrhen up towards the top of the main keep to the large chambers that had been put aside for royal visits. Once he had left Robert there, Torrhen went to his own chambers to look upon the army snaking up the Kingsroad. He was certain that Tywin wouldn't do as commanded and was looking forward to taking the might of the North into the West.

* * *

The second night into King Robert's stay at Moat Cailin had nothing to do with the war, however. Mira Forrester had been brought to Moat Cailin by request of Ned Stark, and the nobles in the fortress had all gathered in the small, newly planted Moat Cailin Godswood to witness the union of Torrhen and Mira.

A small feast for afterwards had also been prepared, and to Torrhen's surprise King Robert was nursing his cups for the majority of the night, talking quietly with Ned for most of the celebrations. It was the Greatjon and Rodrik Forrester that were the drunkest and the loudest, although the loudest laugh of the night came when Cley Cerwyn drunkenly tried to flirt with Dacey Mormont, who gave the Cerwyn heir a feisty right hook as a reward.

The feasting lasted for hours, but finally Ned announced that the newly weds were to leave and consummate. Thankfully everybody in attendance behaved themselves as they were taken to Torrhen's chambers, though Torrhen guessed that that was because of Balerion following along nipping at people's ankles if the direwolf felt they deserved it.

As the door shut behind them, Torrhen and Mira just looked at each other and laughed. "That could have gone worse." Torrhen noted.

"I was expecting more groping." Mira admitted. "I'm glad there wasn't though."

Torrhen looked over to where the young black direwolf had curled up on the rug by the fireplace. "I think Bal had something to do with that."

Mira smiled, and walked over to Balerion and gave the direwolf a stroke. "My brave knight." She said. Balerion rolled over and accepted the belly rubs, something that Torrhen could only laugh more at.

The Stark walked over to the window where the shutters were open, looking out towards the gathered tents, music and merriment filling the cold air. He felt Mira's arms snake around his stomach, and a soft kiss on the back of his neck. Torrhen turned in Mira's arms and placed a kiss upon her lips. "We don't have to do anything." He told her. "Our bodies are both young, after all."

"They are old enough." Mira whispered. "Tor, I've waited two lifetimes to marry you and you're soon riding off to war for Gods knows how long. I want it to be real in every sense. As it was under the stars at Bitterbridge, as it was in Highgarden. I've waited since then to be with you like this, I'm waiting no longer."

Torrhen grinned at her, kissing her deeper than he had done all night as he pushed her towards their bed to consummate their marriage properly in the eyes of the Gods.

* * *

Wedded bliss wasn't something that Torrhen was allowed, it seems. Barely a week after the wedding the entire war council was called, and Robert Baratheon led it, placing a raven message on the large table.

"Wayfarer's Rest has fallen." Robert announced. "Lord Vance is dead. Gregor Clegane himself led the charge and scattered those gathered at the border between the Riverlands and the Westerlands and sacked the castle afterwards."

Murmurs and curses came from the room's occupants. "We need to move." Robb Stark suggested. "We can't sit here while my Mother's home is at risk from that beast."

"We will move." Ned agreed. "We are here in strength. We march down to bolster Lord Edmure's forces and push the Lannister's back into the West."

"We need to look to the Capital too." Roose Bolton said, thinking aloud. "Tywin knows that the Iron Throne is the symbol of power, if he can get to it before us…"

"He won't." Robb said. "We have 30,000 men. My Uncle will have at least 20,000 himself. Send part of our force to King's Landing and meet the Valemen, and the rest over to attack the Westerlands."

Robert liked that plan. "Can you lead?" He asked Robb.

"Me?" Robb said quickly, looking at Ned in surprise. Ned just nodded his head, and Robb gulped. "I can, Your Grace."

"Good." The King clapped his hands together. You will take a third of us down to the Capital and be my representative from the Northern host. Meet with Lord Royce and between you, secure King's Landing until Stannis can get there."

Ned turned to Robb. "Take Ser Wylis and the Manderly men, along with Lord Bolton and his men." That surprised Robb, but he nodded his agreement all the same.

"The rest of us will cross at the Twins." Robert declared.

"We should leave a strong enough host here." Torrhen declared. All eyes turned to him, but he stood tall and continued. "When was the last time in a civil war that all the Riverlords fought on the same side? I can't recall a single one. The North is one of the staunchest supporters of you, Your Grace. We should leave it defended."

"Not to mention the Iron Fleet will likely want their revenge." Ned grumbled.

"We've covered the West Coast, but the Fever river does run awfully close to here." Lord Ryswell agreed.

Ned looked around. "Lord Howland. You and Lord Stout with the Barrowton forces will hold the Moat. 5,000 men should be plenty."

"Leaving us 15,000 to join with the Riverlords." Lord Karstark noted.

"Swap any cavalry you have with my own men." Torrhen suggested. "We need all the horse we can get."

"Aye." The agreement went around the room. Robert looked at the map once all of the figures had been moved around to show their plan.

"Lord Robb, have your force leave at dawn tomorrow." The King commanded. "We'll let Lord Royce know to meet you here, at Darry." He moved the falcon piece himself to the Riverland castle. "Take Ser Mandon of my own Kingsguard with you to show your legitimacy in riding for me. The rest of us, gather all your supplies and prepare to leave at dawn in three days. We ride for the Twins."

The King then strode out the room followed by his Kingsguard, and the Northern lords and commanders began to filter out, leaving only the Starks left in the room. Robb breathed out heavily. "Lord Bolton, with me?"

Ned nodded, placing a hand on Robb's shoulder for comfort. "Domeric will be with you and he is friendly with us. Lord Bolton won't risk his relationship with us, not this time."

"Domeric is a good man, Robb." Torrhen agreed. "Plus you're surrounded by your wife's men. It's the Twins I'm concerned about…"

"We have Robert on our side, Torrhen." Ned turned to him this time. "This is a different war than you fought before."

Torrhen nodded, staring at the map again to look at all the planned troop movements. Pounding the table gently with his fist twice, he stood up straight and turned to his brother and father with a grin. "I best go and enjoy the time I have left with my wife then."

Robb just burst into laughter at that, clapping Torrhen on the back as he walked out the room to prepare his own men to leave.

* * *

Olenna Tyrell watched on with her granddaughters under a large canopy as her Lordly grandson sparred against three knights. Margaery and the other younger girls were sewing and gossiping, but Olenna just watched Loras, impressed at his ability. Her musings were interrupted by the Maester Lomys, the Highgarden Maester and a man almost as old as Olenna herself.

"A raven from Dragonstone, Lady Olenna." He croaked. Olenna took it gratefully and cracked open the seal. She unravelled the letter, and the words on it almost took her by surprise. She read it again just to make sure she had seen it correctly, and then coughed to gain the girls attention. "Leave me." She told them. "Margaery, you stay."

The other girls did as they were asked, while Margaery set down her sewing and sat closer to Olenna. "What is it?" She asked.

Olenna handed her the raven. "It seems that Renly Baratheon's relationship with Loras has proven interesting. Left, go and get my grandson."

One of the twins that guarded the old woman did as he was told, while Margaery read the letter. "They want me as Queen?"

"Well of course they do child." Olenna rolled her eyes. "With the Lannister woman having done what she has, of course they are going to go to the most beautiful maiden from the strongest house. The question is, do we accept?"

"Why wouldn't we?" Margaery laughed at the absurdity of the thought. "I'd be Queen."

"Who would be Queen?" Loras asked, having just heard the last part of the statement.

Margaery handed him the letter. "Renly has encouraged Stannis to push for me to be Queen after the war is won."

Loras grinned. "It's no less than you deserve, sweet sister." He said, leaning in to peck Margaery on the cheek.

Margaery giggled and slapped him on the chest plate. "Get away, you smell awful."

"I've been fighting." Loras shrugged, slouching into a chair nearby and reaching for a peach to eat. He took a bite and chewed it. "I say we accept."

"And do we know what Robert Baratheon himself thinks of this?" Olenna raised an eyebrow. "All we have are the assurances from his brothers that they will push for it, not that he himself has offered a betrothal."

Loras straightened up slightly. "I'll send a rider Northwards." They had heard all about King's Landing and Robert's departure after all. "One of Leonette's brothers can do it, seeing as though they're family now."

He said it unhappily, but Olenna was pleased with the idea. Loras had quickly married one of the red apple Fossoway's, and had it confirmed that after the third day of constant questions from Olenna herself to her grandson, he had finally managed to consummate the marriage. He had sulked for days afterwards, but if she was honest with herself Olenna didn't care so long as he got her pregnant. "A fine idea. Send Ser Bryan, he could do with a long stretch in the saddle."

Loras smirked at the comment but nodded. He turned to Margaery. "You'll make a fine Queen."

Margaery had the decency to blush. "We don't know if he'll choose me yet."

"Of course he will." Loras was adamant. "I'll send a portrait of you up with Ser Bryan, he won't be able to say no."

* * *

Torrhen hated the Twins. The army had set up camp before the hill that overlooked the Green Fork, and Torrhen along with his Father, King Robert and his Kingsguard were sat on their horses overlooking the Eastern castle, the one that housed Walder Frey. Torrhen held the Stark banner, and Ser Arys Oakheart held the crowned stag of Baratheon.

"We should storm it and burn it to the ground." Torrhen growled quietly, so only Ned could hear. Balerion was beside Torrhen growling too, the direwolf already the size of a regular adult hound. Ned wheeled around on his horse so that he was closer to Torrhen.

"Enough." The Warden of the North said sharply. "If you can't be civil and see that none of these men have done what they did to you yet, go and wait with the rest of the camp."

Torrhen didn't say anything, but he didn't move either. Instead just sitting in silence as they waited. Robert was growing impatient, and he made that vocal.

"What is it with these Frey's?" He complained. "Don't they owe allegiance to your goodfather, Ned?"

"They do, Your Grace." Ned replied. "But Lord Walder has always been cautious, and his son is married to Lord Tywin's sister. He is likely waiting to see what he can get out of either side."

Robert growled in annoyance. "Well if he'd bloody hurry up about it I won't have his head off for wasting my time."

As if on cue, the gate to the twins opened up and two riders approached, one bearing a white flag of truce, the other a Frey banner. Torrhen almost puked at seeing it.

The riders approached, and Torrhen recognised Ser Stevron Frey and Ser Perwyn Frey. Stevron, the eldest and heir to the Twins rode up to face King Robert and spoke. "Your Grace, Lord Stark." He greeted the two men. "My Father, Lord Walder Frey, would know your business for bringing an army to our gates?"

"You know our business." Ned countered firmly. "You have received the raven detailing the Lannisters murder of Lord and Lady Arryn, have you not? You have been summoned by your Liege Lord to call your banners and join him in Riverrun, have you not?"

Ser Stevron looked apologetic and turned to the King. "Your Grace, Tywin Lannister holds our brother in Casterly Rock. We cannot raise our men in fear of his life."

Robert actually laughed aloud. "If you think Tywin fucking Lannister cares about your brother enough to execute him and his children because you've risen against him, you don't know Tywin Lannister. Open your fucking gates and let us through at the very least. We mean you no harm."

Ser Stevron nodded. "I would love to do so, Your Grace. But my Father is an old man and can only see the threats to his person. He is wary to open his gates to such a strong host."

"Do it, or I'll open them myself." Robert growled.

"It need not come to that." Ser Perwyn added. "All Father needs is assurances."

"Then let's get it over with." Robert rolled his eyes. "Assure him he has my word."

"Words can be forged." Stevron said.

Robert threw his hands up in frustration. "Seven fucking hells. Fine, I'll come and give your wrinkly old Father his assurances."

"Robert." Ned warned.

Ser Barristan at the same time argued. "Your Grace. That's too dangerous."

"If Walder Frey wants to imprison me, he'll regret it." Robert shut them both up, his hand on his sword hilt. "Ser Barristan, Ser Arys. You both will join me." He turned to Ned. "Don't worry, old friend. I know what I'm doing."

"You better." Ned raised an eyebrow but nodded his acceptance anyway.

Robert turned back to the Frey's. "You." He pointed to Stevron, intentionally forgetting the man's name. "You stay here, for your Father's good will."

"Your Grace…" Stevron argued.

"It wasn't a request." Robert said with stern eyes. "I am still your King. You. Stay. Here."

Ser Stevron opened his mouth to argue but closed it once more. He nodded and moved his horse to be stood beside Torrhen as King Robert, Ser Barristan and Ser Arys rode towards the castle. Balerion moved under Torrhen's horse to stare up at the Frey heir, growling as the direwolf did so. Torrhen smirked. "Have you ever met a direwolf before?" He asked. Stevron shook his head, gulping at the pup's teeth. "Pray that your father cooperates so you won't need to get to know him better."

* * *

**King Robert is a lot more impatient and takes less notice of his advisors than Robb did in canon… but with a King to treat with rather than Catelyn Stark, what will Walder Frey come up with?**

**The Northmen have had a lot of time to gather men, first at the individual castles and then at Winterfell/Moat Cailin. That's why they have so many already mustered. I did try to show that Robb is still a bit of a tactical prodigy here too in the little way I could. Him leading his own men will allow him to come out of his 'I killed the entire North' mood which he is still subconsciously in.**

**And Torrhen and Mira finally married! Sorry Torrhen/Dany fans, but that was fun to write during Season 5 of Rises and as a one shot, but to me Torrhen has always been in love with Mira (barring the first few chapters when I didn't know where I was taking it yet).**

**I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Next time we head across the Narrow Sea, as well as find out what happened in the Twins…**

**Reviews:**

**Zoom99: As long as they're tied to a House Stark that has more than one adult male still alive in its line, Roose wouldn't dare betray them.**

**RHatch89: It was slow getting here, but it was all necessary to set up the world now that Torrhen has been sent back. Things will go at pace now!**

**Hear My Fury: The mines may have run dry but the Lannisters are still the wealthiest House in Westeros by a long way. Why does Torrhen want Jon or Dany on the throne over the Baratheon's? He's never explicitly said so as far as I'm aware. All he really wants here is to beat the White Walkers and survive with Mira.**

**Marinebrat25: The only time my stories are done is when they've been updated to 'completed' status! I look forward to seeing your own works too. I think Fury might be a bit too dark for a 1 year old, but I do like the idea!**

**Guest (Sam Tarly): Sam will make his appearance in Chapter 27, which is going to be a pretty crazy chapter.**

**Iyalode: I thought I'd made it clear in the chapter that Robert was warned that his life was in danger and he couldn't trust anybody left in the Red Keep. The Gold Cloaks follow Littlefinger and they are the only army left in the city. Going North has saved Robert's life.**

**Lightningscar: What would enrage Robert more on his return to the Red Keep, being quietly told that Jon died or seeing his severed head on a spike? And as I said in a previous review response, Baelish is in charge of the Gold Cloaks now who are the only army left, so he basically holds King's Landing. Bran will get his wolf! **


	23. The Queen of the Seven Kingdoms

**When I first mentioned that I was doing this story the most asked for pairing was Dany/Torrhen interestingly enough. Of course, I'm not doing that in this story. That was best left to chapters 40-49 in Black Wolf Rises along with Chapter 5 of Black Wolf – One Shots, which if you haven't checked that out but loved Torrhen/Dany then please do! The Dragon Queen is finally introduced in this story here though, so those that wanted the pairing I hope that the fact she is involved in the story is a small consolation to you.**

**The only other thing I feel I need to say here is a strong 'fuck you' to Dan and Dave, or any producers/directors that have made Emilia Clarke, or any female actress for that matter, uncomfortable in forcing them to do nude scenes. The news that's come out really makes my skin crawl and I feel glad that Emilia has called it out**

**Anyway, on to the chapter at hand. I own nothing but Torrhen, everything else here belongs to either George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

Robert Baratheon was inside the Twins all night, causing great concern for Ned. Together with Torrhen, Stevron Frey and the remaining Kingsguard, Ned waited on the same spot that they had been on the day before for the King to return.

It was closer to midday by the time the gates opened once more, and the King rode out with Ser Barristan and Ser Arys. He looked cheery, and dismounted before Ned, clapping Ser Stevron on the back. "Get back to the castle, we're all allies here now!" He exclaimed.

"Robert." Ned said sternly. "What happened in there? You were gone all night."

Robert burst into laughter, slapping Stevron's back again. "This man's father knows just how to please me! That's what. There I was, angry at the old man for refusing us entrance, when he offers me a bed and three of his daughters! HA! I'm pretty sure one of them was married too."

Torrhen just rolled his eyes unhappily, and Ned shook his head. "You slept with the man's daughters to gain an alliance.

Robert grinned at an uncomfortable Stevron. "What's the girls name… Amy?"

"Amerei." Stevron muttered quietly.

Robert belted out a laugh. "By the Seven she knows what she's doing. Her husband is a lucky man." He turned to Ned. "No, Ned. This morning he asked me how my night was and was very apologetic about my marriage with the whore being annulled. He gave me the choice of his daughters and I accepted."

"You… you're marrying a Frey?" Torrhen blurted out.

Robert shrugged. "I don't need an alliance, I need heirs. And if there's anything that the Frey's can do it's fuck well and pop out children."

"Who are you marrying, Your Grace?" Stevron asked eagerly.

Robert grinned. "Your granddaughter, I believe. Fair Walda she was called by Amerei."

Torrhen couldn't believe it. "I'm going to be sick." He whispered to himself.

Robert was over the moon though. "So the gate will remain open and our men can travel over the bridge today, while we have a wedding to perform tonight!"

Robert mounted his horse again and made for his tent with his Kingsguard, laughing as he went. Stevron disappeared quickly too back towards the castle, leaving Torrhen alone with his Father and his direwolf.

"A Frey Queen…" Torrhen muttered. "I can't… a Frey!"

"Calm yourself." Ned said quietly.

"Father… I can't ever trust them." Torrhen said, losing his queasiness and instead growing angry. "After what they did!"

"They haven't done it." Ned said sharply. "Not yet, not here."

"I can't just forget!" Torrhen bit back angrily.

Ned shook his head. "Nobody is asking you to forget it, Torrhen. But look at it this way, why was Robb betrayed in your time?"

"Because Walder Frey is a thrice cursed traitorous cunt." Torrhen grumbled.

"Torrhen." Ned warned.

The younger Stark sighed. "Because Robb broke his vow and Tywin offered Frey the Riverlands."

"Exactly." Ned counselled. "And while I'm as against this as you are, think of it like this. Walder is getting his wish and one of his brood is marrying the King. Once that is consummated it won't be broken. Walder Frey gets what he wants, and he will never break faith with Robert Baratheon."

Torrhen knew he was right, but his anger at the Frey's was still unrivalled. "I can't go in there for a wedding, Father. I just can't." He was almost pleading at this point.

Ned smiled sadly. "You are friendly with the Bolton boy, are you not?" He asked. Torrhen nodded. "And you hated the Bolton's more when you first came back. Think of it like that." He looked towards the Twins. "Those are not your Frey's; they are different people here. Loyal to your King."

Torrhen didn't like it, but he nodded once more. "Fine." He grumbled. "But Balerion stays with me or I am not going inside."

* * *

Jon had been in Pentos for three days before the wedding, and he already hated the heat. He had discarded his wolfskin cloak for a thinner, black cloth one but no matter what he did he couldn't stop himself from discomfort. Together with Jory Cassell and a couple of other guardsmen they had arrived at the wedding between Khal Drogo and Daenerys Targaryen, somewhere on the coast of Pentos. They stuck to the outskirts for the most part, trying not to draw too much attention to themselves.

Jon couldn't help but stare in the direction of the two Targaryen's sat on the hill. Viserys Targaryen was sat to one side, wearing the infamous colours of House Targaryen, whilst he thought that Daenerys looked utterly beautiful in her dress, although he was unused to the amount of skin showing. Jory was too busy staring at the Dothraki women dancing on the ground however, with their breasts out for all to see.

Soon it was time to give their gift as was custom. They got in line and waited their turn, behind a man with some form of rocks, a man with a snake and numerous others. They were close enough to hear the conversation of a Westerosi Knight, and Jon was shocked to realise who it was once the man announced his home.

"Bear Island?" He whispered to Jory.

"Aye. Lord Stark was to execute him, and the coward fled." Jory whispered, annoyance in his tone.

Very quickly though it was his turn to give a gift, and he let the two guardsmen carry it to the platform that Daenerys and her new husband were perched on. It was a harp.

Khal Drogo laughed, and said something in Dothraki that Jon could see was mocking. The man in orange beside Viserys stood up and translated. "Khal Drogo wishes to know what you think he would do with this?"

"It's for the new Khaleesi." Jon told the Khal. "It belonged to her brother."

While the fat Pentoshi translated Jon noticed Viserys tense up in his peripheral, although his eyes were on Daenerys. She stood up and traced her hands over the red dragon snaking down the column, in awe of the instrument. "Who are you, Ser?"

"No knight." Jon shook his head. "My name is Jon Snow."

"A Northern bastard?" Viserys asked. "How is it you come to have Rhaegar's harp?"

"This is Rhaegar's?" Daenerys asked, eyes wide in awe.

"Aye, it is." Jon noted. "He left it with his wife when he marched to war, and her brother brought it home to Winterfell to bury with her."

Viserys laughed, but his eyes were furious. "What lies is this? Rhaegar married a Dornishwoman, you fool."

"And then had that annulled to marry Lyanna Stark of Winterfell." Jon bit back. He bowed his head to Daenerys. "Forgive me, Khaleesi. It is not a well-known tale."

"But it is his harp?" Daenerys asked, strumming the strings lightly.

"Definitely." Jon affirmed.

He didn't notice Jorah Mormont leaning in to Viserys' ear until it was too late though, the Targaryen exile unsheathing his sword and pointing it at Jon. "Who is your Father, bastard."

Jon noticed Jory and the other men going for their blades, as well as the previously silent Ghost bearing his sharp teeth, but he stopped them with a hand gesture and stroked Ghost's white fur. "My Father is Ned Stark, a man who sent me away for the sole crime of being his bastard. I took this from Winterfell and came here, to serve you." He was looking at Daenerys the whole time.

"I should gut you here and now and send your head back to Winterfell." Viserys spat.

"You will not." Daenerys said firmly. "Magister, please tell the Khal that this man and his friends are under my protection. They shall not be harmed." Illyrio Mopatis did just that, and the Khal just nodded with a grunt. "Welcome to Pentos, Jon Snow." She said with a smile.

Jon just bowed his head, hating the fact that he had to lie about his relationship with his Father, but it had been Ned's idea to claim a falling out. '_If they feel like you are bitter towards me and your siblings, they may take you in under the promise of giving you Winterfell. Let them.' _Ned had said.

Bowing his head to Daenerys, Jon moved away from the central podium back to the outskirts where he could breathe a sigh of relief. "I thought I was a dead man." He admitted to Jory.

"That Viserys reminds me of his Father." Jory noted quietly. "And the fact they have Ser Jorah with them… this doesn't bode well."

Jon nodded, watching as Illyrio gifted Daenerys Targaryen with dragon eggs. That got his attention. "That is what we are here for though Jory, we need to keep both Daenerys and her dragons alive. And if Viserys Targaryen gets in my way, then so be it."

* * *

Torrhen stayed on the edge of the room, not willing to celebrate in this hall. The hall where he imagined the Frey's had all celebrated at the death of his brother, flayed and hanging from the top of this very castle next to his wife. The only thing stopping him from leaving the room in a fury was the thought of Arya sat at the Lord's chair, giving a speech as every single male of House Frey choked and died on poison.

Shaking his past life from his mind, he looked over to see Robert Baratheon drinking more than he had done since he had arrived back at Moat Cailin, his new wife on his lap feeding the King from her hands. His Father was talking quietly to Rickard Karstark on one of the tables, another who looked like he would have preferred to be anywhere else but there.

Balerion tugged at his leash, not enjoying the lack of freedom. Torrhen knelt down and petted the direwolf, moving to a table briefly to grab a chicken leg, which the direwolf tore into quickly.

"He doesn't look so fearsome here." A female voice came from behind him. He turned to see a blonde, clearly a Frey judging by her face, although he would have mistaken her for a whore judging by her dress. "What's his name?"

"Balerion." Torrhen offered gruffly.

"Peace, Lord Stark." The woman chuckled. "It is a wedding, no? Have some wine, relax." Torrhen didn't say anything, just stared at the woman with suspicious eyes. She wasn't deterred however, standing up to lean on the wall beside him, taking care to push her breasts out. "If I wasn't married already, I'd be up there instead of her."

Ah, that's who she was. "Amerei Frey." He placed.

She grinned, curling a strand of hair around her fingers. "My reputation proceeds me."

"It seems we have you to thank for this… event." Torrhen said. "His Grace was most jovial when he arrived back at camp."

Amerei looked pleased with herself. "Men are easy, take good care down there and they fall into the palm of your hands." She placed her hand on his chest gently, snaking it downwards. "I've had a Baratheon, I wonder what a Stark is like…" Torrhen gripped her wrist tightly, glaring at the girl.

"Leave. Now." He growled. "I wouldn't want to break Guest Right by cutting out your tongue."

He shoved her hand away from him, leaving Amerei Frey pouting. Luckily for Torrhen, just at the moment that Balerion started growling at the wanton woman she saw another victim, Cley Cerwyn this time, and wandered over to annoy him instead.

"You look thrilled to be here, brother." The drunken voice of Rodrik Forrester appeared.

Torrhen scoffed. "We should be marching, not drinking.

Rodrik chuckled, patting him on the back. "Whilst I won't ever be angry at you for honouring my little sister by literally throwing away other suitors, I will say this. Enjoy yourself! We don't know what will happen in the coming months. Now may be the only time we can truly let loose."

Torrhen sighed, knowing he was right. "Fine." He gave in. "One drink."

Of course, one turned into two, which turned into more, and by the end of the night Torrhen was the one leading singing once 'The Bear and the Maiden Fair' began playing, banging his cup on the table in time with the beat as King Robert twirled his new bride around on the dance floor.

* * *

The Dothraki wedding was drawing to a close, and the final part was just about to happen. Jon watched on as the Khal gifted Daenerys with a fine silver mare and rode off with her into the sunset. The main wedding carried on however, though Jon didn't feel like joining in the merriment. As he stood up to leave so that the Northerners could travel back to their inn however, Ser Jorah Mormont made his way over to him.

"Ned Stark never had any issues with his bastard." Jorah said venomously. "He took you in as his own."

Jory's hand was back on his sword hilt. "Careful, Ser." The Cassell warned.

"It's alright Jory." Jon said calmly. He slowly reached into his shirt and pulled out some parchment. "My Father knew you would be here, Ser Jorah, and he knew you would react like this when you found out who I was. Here, read this."

He handed the parchment to the disgraced knight and watched as Jorah read it. "A pardon?"

Jon nodded. "You will never hold Bear Island, but your exile will be lifted, if you help me."

"Help you?" Jorah asked. "With what?"

Jon patted Jorah on the shoulder. "Keep Daenerys Targaryen alive long enough for those dragons to hatch."

Jorah scoffed, moving Jon's hand roughly. "Those are stone."

Jon just smirked. "Are they?" He asked, as he moved past Jorah and made his way to his horse, closely followed by his comrades.

* * *

While his brothers were at celebrations both at the Twins and in Pentos, Robb was finding his feet at being in charge of an entire army. Thankfully he had Ser Wylis Manderly by his side to help him, Wylla's father, having been an heir for over 40 years, knew what he was doing. Robb had also come to rely on Domeric Bolton to keep him from getting too bored while on the march.

They had camped by the Green Fork having come off the Kingsroad for the night, and Robb was in his command tent looking at the map of the South, trying to work out the time it would take to meet Lord Royce at Darry. Robb reckoned it would likely be another week of marching, a prospect that he didn't enjoy. Suddenly in the corner of his eye one of the direwolves moved in its sleep, and Robb saw that it was Summer. Smiling at the prospect of seeing Bran's face once he saw his direwolf, Robb returned to thinking about his plans, when a voice came from outside.

"Ser Domeric to see you, Lord Robb." One of the Stark guardsmen called.

Robb stood up straight and called. "Let him in." The tent flap opened and in came the Bolton heir, wearing the mainly mailed armour of his house with the flayed man of House Bolton proudly on his chest plate.

"You summoned me, Robb?"

Robb nodded. "You spent time in the Vale, did you not?"

Dom smiled at the memory. "Aye I did. I squired for Lord Horton Redfort for a few years, and he knighted me before I came back to the North."

"Did you meet many other of the Vale nobles?" Robb asked.

Domeric thought for a moment. "I went to Ironoaks the once and met Lady Waynwood and her sons. I was also taken to Runestone just the once."

"So you've met Lord Yohn?" Robb asked.

"From a distance." Domeric admitted.

Robb leant on the wooden table in the middle of the tent. "I know nothing of the man other than what I saw in his brief stay in Winterfell. Were you close to Lord Redfort?"

"His sons, mainly." Domeric answered. "They were like brothers to me. Creighton and Jon mainly as they were closer in age to me, but Jasper, the eldest was always kind to me. Mychel was younger, but he was a good lad too."

Robb thought for a moment. "Would any be in Lord Royce's host?"

Domeric nodded. "All but Mychel I'd wager."

"Then you could go to the Vale and treat with them." Robb noted. "Your relationship with them far surpasses anybody else in this camp."

"Treat with them?" Domeric asked. "Are they not on our side?"

Robb nodded. "They are, but our task isn't to fight battles against Tywin Lannister. Ours is to take the Red Keep and root out all the traitors inside the castle. I need you to let them know that in all likelihood, while it is vital, the only thing we will do is sit and judge those inside the Red Keep."

Domeric nodded, but his lips were tight together in thought. "They won't like that."

"They won't, but that is where Jon Arryn died. Something happened in that castle that led to the death of their Lord and it's our job to find that out." Robb explained.

Domeric nodded. "When do you need me to go?"

"As soon as you can." Robb explained. "Take your fastest riders with you. They'll likely be close to the border, or if not still at the Bloody Gate."

Domeric nodded. "I'll gather my men and leave tonight then."

Robb walked closer to Domeric and gripped the man's forearm, letting Domeric do the same in a firm handshake. "Thank you." He said honestly.

Domeric bowed and left the tent, leaving Robb alone to look into what would happen when they got to the city itself.

* * *

Tyrion Lannister decided that Casterly Rock probably wasn't the best place to be at that moment in time. Ever since that blasted raven had arrived from Dragonstone detailing Cersei and Jaime's rumoured crimes Tywin Lannister had been even more of an arse as usual, quicker to anger and often locking himself away with Kevan in his solar. Not that Tyrion minded the second, as it gave him longer periods of time without being insulted or abused by his Father.

The second raven was even worse than the first, with King Robert himself calling on Tywin to arrest his own children or face the might of Westeros. The mighty Tywin Lannister of course didn't believe the story being spun by the King and had called his own banners, having already sent Ser Gregor to the Golden Tooth to ensure that the Riverlords were kept in check.

It was a shock to the dwarf that he was called upon to sit in on a council meeting, and an even bigger shock when he saw Jaime in attendance. Tyrion sat down in his seat to the side of the room and just listened in as Jaime was asked to explain what exactly had happened in the Capital.

"Varys came to us the day before after hearing rumours that Robert was due to go on a hunt, and that Jon Arryn would use that time arrest Cersei and I for some reason." Jaime shrugged; the feigned ignorance noticeable to Tyrion. "He showed us a secret passage in Cersei's chambers and so we gathered the children knowing that we needed to escape."

"You should have stayed." Tywin said unamused. "To flee is to give legitimacy to these disgusting lies."

Jaime almost laughed bitterly. "It was either flee or lose my head, Father. I'd rather have kept my head thank you very much."

"It has put us in an impossible position." Tywin noted, looking at a map. "The North and the Vale now want your heads, as will the Stormlands. The Riverlands will follow whatever Ned Stark will do like sheep. We need allies."

'_Not bloody likely.'_ Tyrion thought. "Dorne hate us." The Dwarf piped up. "And we hate the Ironborn."

"Luckily that leaves us with one region with the power to hold all the others at bay." Kevan said, tapping Highgarden.

Jaime did actually laugh at that. "You expect Loras Tyrell to betray the man he lets fuck him?"

"I expect Lady Olenna to be ambitious." Kevan bit back. He turned to Tywin. "Offer Joffrey to the maid, give her the promise of being a Queen. The Tyrell's have always been power hungry, let us use that to our advantage."

Tywin nodded. "Robert's… annulment. It is dismissible, the oaf has clearly been seduced by his brothers longing for power and so he creates these lies to discredit us."

"Is it lies?" Tyrion asked with a raised eyebrow towards Jaime.

Tywin glared at the dwarf. "Of course it is." He snarled. "We are not Targaryen's."

Jaime was also looking angry. "It's times like these where I wonder who's side you are really on, brother."

Tyrion smiled as sweetly as his ugly face could manage. "Dear brother, you know how much I love my family."

"Enough." Tywin snapped. "If you can't be serious, get out of my sight." Tyrion nodded, pretending to zip his mouth shut and allowing Tywin to continue. "That being said, we need more men. The Vale will be out for blood after that letter and you letting Lysa Arryn drown." He glared at Jaime. That had been another interesting development, apparently Lysa Arryn had been captured by Jaime, but when she came too and realised her predicament, she had rolled overboard and drowned rather than let herself be taken hostage. Tywin had been irate at that as well. The Lannister Lord then handed Kevan two raven messages. "Deliver these to Creylen. Have them sent to Highgarden, Sunspear and Pyke respectively. Then prepare yourself for a voyage."

"A voyage?" Kevan asked. "Where am I going?"

Tywin looked at the map. "To meet with Harry Strickland. We are going to hire the Golden Company."

* * *

**A couple of you in the reviews were asking/assuming that Roslin Frey would be the one to be the one that Robert married, which in my opinion is just another area that the show couldn't manage to portray properly. The Frey's are such an interesting bunch, and while of course the majority are horrible people, they have a few more interesting characters about them. I chose Fair Walda because she's meant to be one of the more beautiful Frey's going, as well as being sexually active and presumably knowing what she wants, and that confidence would likely have drawn Robert's eye especially after being given three women the night before that made him extremely happy.**

**We also have Daenerys' wedding in this chapter, and that's partly why I chose the title that I did. She will be more involved as the chapters go on, although her story will mainly be told from Jon's POV.**

**Finally, an insight into Casterly Rock. Tywin is always thinking of ways to turn his situation around to his advantage, and that's shown here with him hiring the Golden Company and trying to sway the Tyrell's. This war is far from over…**

**I hope you all enjoyed it. Feel free to let me know any and all opinions you have of the story whether that's through a review or a PM!**

**Next time: Jon rides with the Dothraki, Rickon makes a friend and Torrhen remembers something else from before he died...**

**Reviews:**

**Hear My Fury: When Ned's been found out by Torrhen, Catelyn and Robb both know, as does Luwin, Ser Rodrik Cassel and Vayon Poole… why wouldn't Ned tell Jon the truth? Telling him the truth about himself when other people know too doesn't mean that Ned wants a Targaryen restoration. He's seen what the throne did to his best friend, the same best friend he swore an oath too, Ned wouldn't break that oath. **

**Dzerx: He didn't demand, he just played Robert like a fool, ploughing him with enough Frey women to lower his guard and Walder used that to his advantage.**

**Guest (Stupid): How are they?**

**saku hyuuga: Walder is an ambitious man, and Robert knows he needs to pop babies out and fast. The Baratheon played into the old man's hands here really, especially while he was 'drugged up' on amorous Frey women.**

**AstoriaRedfern: Nope, Queen Fair Walda! Roslin for me is innocently beautiful, which while it might appeal to Edmure and Robb, wouldn't really appeal to Robert. Fair Walda is described as 'nubile' by Catelyn, so mix that with the rumours that she and Black Walder were intimate, Robert would know that she knows what she's doing in the bedroom and she is known to come from a fertile line.**

**Marinebrat25: The Frey's are like any house, moulded by their patriarch. The Stark's for example aren't known to be overly honourable, but Ned was brought up in the Vale by Jon Arryn (who's words are As High as Honour) and in turn he taught his children. Walder Frey is ambitious and bitter, and for the most part that filtered down to his family. Obviously you'll get the outliers like Stevron, Olyvar and Perwyn as the main examples, but Walder Frey for the most part has been a horrible person since at the latest 6 years old, when he told his Father about his sister sleeping with a servant and forcing her to wed a man twice her age. Walder's Father was also a key part of the Second Blackfyre Rebellion, and if you want to learn more about that then I'd highly recommend the Dunk and Egg stories to you, as the third one goes into detail about that rebellion.**

**Bad Ass Female Fighter: There's no reason to kill him!**

**DullReign82: Welcome back to my stories! Thank you for the kind words. Sam will be introduced in chapter 27!**

**Lightningscar: Winterfell in the books have two sets of walls. The outer walls are 80 feet and the inner are 100 feet. I'm basically saying that in Moat Cailin, the main fortress of defence for the North, they prioritised the walls of the castle and made them the same height as book Winterfell. Dorne won't declare for any King. In fact they aren't overly involved until the end of the story where my sort of OC Quentyn gets involved. The Tyrells will find out about this chapters development but remember Olenna's hatred of Cersei… Lysa is also mentioned today. Admittedly I wrote myself into a wall with her, I wanted her head on a spike with Jon's but the plot didn't match my wants, so I had to have her die like this.**


	24. Warg

**This chapter takes us past 100,000 words, and to a whole new batch of readers who likely filter the smaller stories out like I do usually. To those that fall into this category and have made it this far, welcome!**

**I still own nothing but Torrhen, everyone and everything else belongs to George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

As Ser Raymun Darry had taken his forces and most of his supplies westwards towards Riverrun, Robb decided against forcing the women, children and those left behind to give up their rooms and food for them, and instead marched his forces Southwards for a few more hours, settling nearby the Inn at the Crossroads and allowing him to have a comfy bed and a better meal than army rations allowed him.

It was the next morning when he was awoken by his new squire, an arrangement that still baffled him considering neither he nor said squire Larence Snow, the bastard of Hornwood, believed in the New Gods.

"Lord Robb." Larence had said. "Ser Domeric is back."

And so he was, the heir to the Dreadfort arriving at the inn with 15,000 mounted Knights. Robb's Father had always stressed to him how impressive the Knights of the Vale were but seeing them in formation was something else.

"Ser Domeric." Robb greeted fondly.

"Lord Robb." Dom replied, as the pair clasped forearms. "I bring the Knights of the Vale."

Dom stood to one side to greet his Father, while Robb was stood face to face with Lord Yohn Royce in his famous bronze armour. "Lord Royce, it is good to see you again. I just wish it were under better circumstances."

The famous Bronze Yohn nodded. "I must admit, I am surprised that His Grace and Lord Eddard named you as their commander, but I trust their judgement Lord Robb." He stuck out an arm and Robb duly shook it. "We should make for the capital as soon as we can however, I dread to think what has gone on in the King's absence."

Robb agreed with the man and invited him to share breakfast with him as Robb explained his plans for when they arrived. Lord Royce of course had adjustments that came with experience, and over the course of an hour the pair had agreed on a course of action, and together they led the march of nearly 25,000 men across the Trident and down towards King's Landing.

* * *

Whilst the news of King Robert's new bride was met with jubilation from most at the Twins, it was a lot more subdued in Lady Olenna's chambers, where she yet again was sat with her grandchildren discussing what to do next.

"He spurned her!" Loras was furious, pacing the room in his anger.

Olenna rolled her eyes at the theatrics. "He clearly didn't know what Renly was planning, Loras. Sit down."

"For a Frey!" Loras exclaimed, seeming to have not heard his Grandmother.

That bit admittedly troubled Olenna, and it worried her that the young Stark boy would be happy to go along with such a move. Margaery as ever was calmer than her brother. "Loras, be calm." She said softly. "What's done is done, we cannot change it. The question now is what should we do next?"

And that brought all of their attention to the letter in the centre of the table, a letter written in what Olenna recognised was Tywin Lannister's own hand. Olenna had a sip of her drink as Loras picked it up and read it once more. "Tywin wants Margaery to marry Joffrey and have us publicly proclaim the rumours surrounding his daughter as lies." Loras told them all for what must have been the fourth time. He looked at Margaery. "You would be Queen." He shrugged.

Olenna slammed her goblet on the table loudly. "We will not marry Margaery to that vile boy!" She almost shouted. "Both he and his vile Mother can hang for all I care. That rumour is true, why else would Robert Baratheon rise up against a man he is in millions of gold in debt to?"

Loras couldn't answer. "I don't care if it's true or not." He muttered. "I just don't want to sit here while others march to war. I'm the Lord of Highgarden, I need to be seen doing something."

"And we will be." Margaery smiled sweetly, placing her hand on Loras' forearm. "Grandmother has a plan, don't you?" She was looking at Olenna expectantly.

Olenna stared back for a moment before the smirk forced itself onto her face. "You know me too well, child." She told her granddaughter. "Of course I do, and it doesn't involve that hideous Lannister woman living."

"Then we join the King in his war?" Margaery asked.

Olenna nodded. "Call the banners, Loras. Have Randyll Tarly gather the Southern Lords and invade the West by the Ocean Road, you yourself gather half of the Northern Lords taking the Gold Road into the West and leave a good force at Highgarden just in case." She told her grandson. "We don't want to leave ourselves vulnerable." '_Not again.'_ She thought to herself.

Loras nodded. "Yes. Yes we'll be attacking them from every route into the Westerlands." He said happily.

"And leave Margaery to me." Olenna told Loras. "We'll find her an advantageous match." She had thought any of the Stark boys considering that the North would prove to be vital in everything that was coming, but of course the two eldest had already gotten themselves married and the other two were betrothed already.

Loras looked a lot happier then, standing up once more to stare out of Olenna's balcony. "We'll remind the entire realm just how mighty we really are." He insisted.

Olenna rolled her eyes and left him to his bluster, instead picking up the message that had come from Casterly Rock and neatly ripping it up into little pieces.

* * *

Seeing Riverrun surrounded by tents once more almost got Torrhen ready to draw Winter's Bite before charging in like the Battle of the Camps, but thankfully once his hand touched the swords hilt he noticed the closest banner being one belonging to House Mooton, one of the more powerful Houses of the Riverlands. Realising his Uncle must have gathered around 17,000 men to Riverrun made Torrhen relax a bit more, as he rode with the other Northern Lords behind King Robert and his Father into the camp, and the nobles of the Northern host, which had been bolstered by 5,000 men from the Twins, were soon escorted into Riverrun proper.

They were greeted by Edmure, who Torrhen was pleasantly surprised to see Riversteel at his hip, and Ser Brynden Tully, who both got to one knee as Robert rode into the Riverrun courtyard. Robert quickly bid them to rise.

"Your Grace, I realise you will likely need time to rest, but my Father is in the War Room waiting for you." Edmure explained. "It's a rare good day, so urgency is needed."

"What my nephew is trying to say." Ser Brynden interrupted. "Is that my brother grows gravely ill and is often bedridden. If it pleases you we should make use of his health holding up."

Robert nodded. "Of course, we'd be glad to attend. Ned, bring your boy."

Torrhen was surprised to be invited but was glad of it. He handed his horse Obsidian off to one of the stable hands and kept pace with the other men as they entered the main keep of Riverrun and made their way up to the War Room.

Lord Hoster Tully was sat there with the Maester, looking frail and smaller than Torrhen remembered. King Robert was the first to enter the room, closely followed by Barristan as ever. Hoster smiled sadly. "Your Grace. Forgive me, I'd kneel but…"

"You stay where you are, My Lord." Robert told the old man kindly. "I still owe you a great debt for your support all those years ago."

Hoster smiled, coughing as he did. "It doesn't seem that long ago since both you and Eddard were here in this very room planning the battle of the Trident. I fear I'm of as much use now as I was then."

"You were wounded." Ned insisted.

"And now I'm just dying." Hoster chuckled grimly, more coughs following. "How is little Cat?"

Ned pulled out a letter. "She wishes she could be here, but the children..."

"This is no place for her, not at the moment." Ser Brynden noted.

"But once this is all over with she will come and visit." Ned told the old man. "I swear it."

Hoster smiled, as he nodded for Maester Vyman to take the letter. He then noticed Torrhen still standing in the doorway. "Tor! My boy, come here." Torrhen did as he was asked, walking to his Grandfather's chair and getting down on both knees, reaching out to hold Hoster's hand. "Your warning it seems came true."

"Sadly so, Grandfather." Torrhen replied.

"But thanks to you we are as ready as we can be, and I have another Grandson, one I can actually dote on." Hoster smiled as he thought of Edmure's newborn son, Axel Tully.

Torrhen smiled happily, but Robert was growing slightly impatient with the reunions. "Where are we at with the war?" He asked.

Edmure pointed them to yet another map of Westeros, but with lion figures pushed as far as Wayfarer's Rest. "Gregor Clegane scattered our men and has sacked Wayfarer's." He explained. "Thankfully our army gathering here has stopped him in his tracks, but before anything we need to retake the castle."

Ned nodded. "I would not have that monster at our backs when we are forced to besiege the Tooth."

"We have almost 40,000 men, how many does he have?" Torrhen asked.

"Less than 3,000." The Blackfish answered. "We can take it, but the castle isn't an easy one to take once you expect an assault."

"Luckily, we have Ser Karyl Vance." Edmure explained. "Or, Lord Karyl now I guess. But he grew up there and knows the castle inside out."

"Have him beside you when you ride out, Edmure." Hoster suggested. "Utilise his knowledge of the area as much as you can."

Edmure nodded and turned to Torrhen. "Is there anything that you can see that will help us win this?"

Torrhen was afraid of this happening, being asked for visions at every turn. "It doesn't work like that, Uncle." He admitted. "I can't choose what I see."

"We'll have to rely on our strength at arms." Robert said, happy that it would come to that.

Barristan looked at the map. "The Mountain is a reckless man, quick to anger. If we harass the supply lines back to the West, could we entice him out of the castle?"

Ned looked thoughtful. "Most men would see that as a trap."

"The Mountain isn't most men." Robert explained. "It's worth a go at least. At worst we stop their supplies from coming in and condemn ourselves to a siege."

"We'll need to keep eyes on the Tooth too though." Barristan noted. "Ensure that we don't get taken in the rear."

The Blackfish looked at the map. "Tywin won't commit all his men to a single assault on us when he's this backed into a corner. He'll preserve his strength and wait for the perfect opportunity to strike."

"He'll have plans and back up plans." Robert nodded. "Then let's take this castle quickly and move on to focusing on getting to Casterly Rock. How soon can your men be ready to leave?"

Edmure thought for a second. "Two days." He surmised.

"Then at dawn on the third we march." Robert said commandingly. "In the meantime, I suppose I need to start losing some of this if I'm to be of any use." He slapped his belly with a chuckle. "Come, Ser Barristan. You can train with me."

With that the King of the Seven Kingdom's left the room. Hoster Tully looked at Ned. "My Daughter's old chambers have been prepared for you, Lord Stark."

Ned nodded. "If you'll excuse me Lord Tully, I should bathe and freshen myself up."

He then left the room followed closely by Edmure and Ser Brynden. Torrhen was about to leave, but Hoster stopped him. "Do you see if we win?" He asked.

Torrhen shook his head. "I've seen nothing to do with this war, Grandfather." He admitted.

Hoster nodded his understanding, a cold look of fury in his eyes. "They must pay, Torrhen. For Lysa, as unhinged as she may have been towards the end she was still my little girl. Make them pay."

* * *

Winterfell felt quiet without the boys, although Catelyn was positive that the noise made by Rickon and Robin Arryn charging about the castle should have made up for that. Thankfully most of the time the two young boys were being handled by Ser Rodrik, as the old knight got them in the training yard.

Another thing for Catelyn to worry about was Wylla Manderly. Her gooddaughter was growing bigger by the day with Cat's grandchild in her belly and it was taking its toll. Thankfully for Cat, Sansa had stepped up massively, helping out with the running of Winterfell to the best of the young girl's ability. Cat's eldest daughter was also helping out with Sara Stark, grateful to have a sister with the same hair and eyes as Sansa.

The matriarch of House Stark was watching her son and nephew learning how to strike a dummy with their wooden swords from the balcony that she and Ned had often browsed the boys training from, although this time she was sat down with both Sansa and Wylla, the latter holding on to her belly cautiously. Sansa was holding her baby sister Sara as both the girls direwolves were at her feet.

"The babe is fine, Wylla." Cat tried reassuring the girl once she noticed the woman fidgeting. "Maester Luwin insists so."

Wylla smiled nervously. "I'm just cautious, Lady Stark. My Mother had issues with childbearing, I just hope I don't follow her in the same."

"You have the best care here, Wylla." Sansa smiled brightly, bouncing a clapping and giggling Sara on her lap. "Maester Luwin has delivered all of us, he knows what he is doing."

Wylla smiled, before chuckling as the young red direwolf pup tried to get onto Sansa's lap too.

"Red! Get down." Sansa scolded the childishly named direwolf through a chuckle. The direwolf did so, and Cat joined in the laughter as Lady, ever the well behaved direwolf, placed a paw on Red's back to stop her from jumping again.

"What do you think is happening with the South?" Wylla asked.

Cat sighed. "Lord Stark and Torrhen have made it to Riverrun, but that's all I know."

"Nothing on Robb?" Sansa asked.

Cat shook her head. "His role is apparently centred around speed; he likely hasn't had time to write us."

"He didn't say what he wanted our child to be named." Wylla commented. Cat turned to her.

"Neither did Ned when I had Robb." She told the Manderly girl. She laughed at the memory. "I was already nervous, being the first woman to follow the Seven from south of the Neck to marry into Winterfell and here I was having given birth to the new heir to Winterfell without the first clue on what to call him. I didn't know much about Stark history, only the name of Ned's immediate family and his grandparents. In the end I settled for the name of his best friend, thinking I couldn't go wrong with that. You have more Northern knowledge than I ever did, but the main thing is to look at your child and to see that the name suits the babe."

That inspired Wylla a bit, as she had a more thoughtful expression on her face. "Thank you, My Lady. I think I have an idea now."

"If you want, I can help you research some names." Sansa said brightly. Wylla was about to respond when Ser Rodrick began shouting down below them.

"RICKON STARK STOP THAT NOW!"

Cat looked down to see that apparently her youngest son had gotten bored at swinging at the dummies and had instead decided to start whacking the young Lord Arryn, who in his amusement had swung back. Sansa burst out laughing at the sight, and even Catelyn had to have a small chuckle, grateful that even in a time of war, her family could still bring her happiness.

* * *

Jon, Jory and the two Stark men sent to guard them had been able to join the Dothraki horde as they travelled east of Pentos, largely thanks to Daenerys Targaryen's fond opinion of Jon after their only meeting so far. They were towards the back of the 40,000 strong Khalasar, and Jon was in awe of the number of horses.

"All of these men following one man." Jon said as they rode, with Jory beside him. "It's incredible."

"There were more than this number attacking the Iron Islands in my first war." Jory commented.

Jon nodded. "Aye, but there you have different Lords with different ambitions involved. This man follows Lord Glover, this man follows Lord Ryswell and so on. Here it's one man. One army. It's impressive."

"Aye it is." Jory conceded. "I wouldn't want to face this lot in battle."

"Pray we never need to." Jon added. They rode on slowly, until Jon noticed Daenerys off to one side, with Ser Jorah talking to her.

"Go and speak with her." Jory pushed.

Jon shook his head. "She won't want to see me." He said softly.

Jory rolled his eyes. "Jon, the whole reason we are here is for you to grow close with her. To allow her to trust you." They noticed Daenerys unhappy at being handed tree bark to eat. "Give her one of the treats from Gage."

Jon groaned, but reached into his satchel anyway and picked out one of the small biscuits that Gage the cook had given them. He rode towards the Mormont knight and pulled up by them.

"Jon Snow." Mormont bowed his head.

"Ser Jorah." Jon greeted. "Khaleesi."

Daenerys smiled sadly. "I'm afraid I'm not good company at the moment, Jon Snow." She looked off to the distance, and Jon followed her eyes to see Khal Drogo riding ahead, looking as regal as anything Jon had ever seen.

"Riding all day is hard." Jon noted. "You need to keep your strength up."

"That's a struggle when all there is to eat is bark." Daenerys said grumpily. Jon smirked, and handed her the biscuit. "What is it?" She asked.

"I get on well with the cook at Winterfell." He explained. "He gave me enough of these to feed a small army. Have it."

She bit into the biscuit, and while it was a little dried out, Daenerys' eyes lit up for a moment. "Thank you." She said.

Jon just smiled at her. "It's tough, and I can only imagine how tough it is for you once we camp, but once everything becomes a bit less… foreign. I'm sure you'll thrive here."

"What do you know about foreign?" Jorah asked.

Jon sighed. "I'm a bastard. All my life I've been treated differently to my siblings. I've grown used to adapting, Ser."

Daenerys looked at him sadly. "All my life we've been running from one city to the next, never knowing where the Usurper would strike next."

Jon looked at her sadly. "That must have been terrible."

"Some of it was." Daenerys admitted. "Some of it was alright. I have fond memories of Braavos."

As she said that Jory came galloping back towards them. "Jon, you're falling behind."

Jon nodded, and turned to Daenerys. "If you'll excuse me, Khaleesi." He bowed his head.

Daenerys just smiled at Jon. "Come and find me at first light, Jon Snow. You can ride with me and tell me more about Westeros."

* * *

Torrhen hadn't been on Robb's campaign into the Westerlands, instead having been chosen to treat with Renly Baratheon instead, a thought that made Torrhen's side itch when it returned to Torrhen's mind, a mental reminder of being stabbed by Loras Tyrell and the pain that came afterwards. Because of that, he hadn't been there to find the goat track with Robb to take them past the Golden Tooth.

Looking up at the castle as the sun began to set, Torrhen understood why the Westerlands had rarely had any wars fought on its soils. If this was the only way through the mountains for 100 miles either side, then it made sense why so many armies had been broken on the walls of the Golden Tooth. They commanded the River Road through the mountains, with a small but strong keep that was no doubt filled with thousands of men, more than enough to stop the large force of Northmen and Rivermen that had descended upon them after recapturing Wayfarer's Rest for House Vance.

A soft panting came from near his ankles, and he looked down to see the black fur of Balerion beside him, lying down patiently. "Good boy." Torrhen whispered, kneeling down to pet the direwolf. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. Standing back up he decided to retire back to his tent and stripped out of his armour before lying on his bed in just a loose undershirt and baggy trousers. He propped himself up on the pillows, looking down at Balerion who was sat on the ground, his head cocked to the left wondering what was happening. "I've not done this to you yet, so if it hurts I'm sorry." Torrhen said to the direwolf. He then looked up at the ceiling and relaxed his mind, feeling it slip out of his body.

The next thing he knew he was looking up at himself lying down on the bed. Mentally celebrating the fact that it had worked, Torrhen got up onto all fours and bounded out of the tent, his tail wagging. He moved towards the left-hand side hill, sniffing as he went past the large pen that housed the recently captured Gregor Clegane, the giant man's hands and legs bound with strong steel to keep him firmly in place. He also ran past King Robert, Ser Barristan Selmy and his Father all training at arms, the King having stuck to his determination to recapture some of his past prowess with the hammer.

Torrhen was soon out of the camp though and racing towards the hills, his nose firmly towards the ground as he sniffed constantly, trying to pick up the scent. Finally, after almost an hour of searching, he caught the whiff of goat. He went exploring for a little longer, managing to squeeze through some bushes that blocked the way, but Torrhen had found it, the path that Robb had used to bypass the Golden Tooth the last time.

Thinking that that was enough for one night, Torrhen ran back towards the army camp and his own tent, his body having not moved an inch. He let his mind fly back to his own body, and he awoke to the view of the tent roof with a gasp.

Grinning, he leapt off of his bed without a care for his attire and raced towards his Father.

* * *

**Jon is getting on to very good terms with Daenerys there, and Olenna has firmly thrown the Tyrell's hat in the ring, a move that even Stannis would appreciate as they're doing their duty to their King without pushing for rewards.**

**Hoster Tully is on his way out sadly, this is still early in the timeline (1x02) so he can still talk, but he is weak, although still tactical enough to help plan. I did skip over the taking of Wayfarer's Rest, but they took it with relative ease thanks to the new Lord Vance and managed to capture the Mountain.**

**Sara Stark and Sansa named the red direwolf 'Red'. If Rickon named his a childish name, I figured a one year old would barely be able to say much more than one syllable, so Red made sense in my eyes. Speaking of direwolves... ****Torrhen also is the first to warg! It's too be expected I'm sure, but it's a fun thing to write and play around with.**

**I hope you enjoyed it! Next time Robb reaches King's Landing, while the other Stark's on campaign prepare for a battle at the Golden Tooth.**

**Reviews:**

**10868letsgo: Well you see Margaery's reaction here, but I'll be sure to write something in Cersei's POV about her thoughts on it!**

**Hear My Fury: You're very right about Olenna, after everything that went down in canon she would never ally with a Lannister. I think you misinterpreted what I meant by an oath by the way, I meant Ned's oath to Robert as King, not the oath to Lyanna. Melisandre isn't with Stannis so he can't use the shadow baby, nor is he enamoured with R'hllor. Robert also DOESN'T need allies, he needs heirs. He has the entire North ready and willing to fight for him, he has the entire Vale ready and willing to fight for him. He has the Stormlands and the Crownlands ready. That's over half of the Seven Kingdoms right there. Yes Margaery may have been smarter, but Robert drugged up on women isn't a smart man.**

**daspeedforce: If he knew about the Margaery deal then maybe he wouldn't have done it. But think like Robert for a moment, your kids aren't your kids and your slut of a wife has ran away to her ancestral home. Suddenly you go from having 2 heirs and a girl, to your heir being your unlikable brother. He knows how fertile the Frey's are, and all he's thinking of is killing Cersei and Jaime, as well as making new heirs.**

**C.E.W: You are pretty much spot on there!**

**ZabuzasGirl: Haha! It's an unpopular choice that's true, but that's Robert as King really.**

**Murdough: Luckily Olenna's hatred for Lannisters and the way their quest for power ended last time has given the Queen of Thornes a new perspective.**

**Bad Ass Female Fighter: He didn't know about the Margaery thing to be fair to him. And as I've said in another review, thankfully Olenna's hatred for Cersei trumps everything else.**

**The Sword 0f The Morning: Thank you! Yeah Tywin is pretty screwed, but the show boosting his numbers has helped me make it seem a bit more even.**

**mlkoolc86: The Martell's as usual will keep themselves to themselves for now, though I hope you enjoyed the Tyrell reaction here.**

**Silver crow: Welcome back! Torrhen was really not happy, but I think Ned is starting to get through to him here with the whole 'These people in front of you now are not the same ones that killed Robb and Talisa before.'**

**Lightningscar: All of the Frey's I'll mention are book characters, although some have more involvement than others. Amerei for example ends up marrying Lancel Lannister when he becomes the Lord of Darry. There's just far too many named Frey's for me to create my own OC, although their personalities will probably be mine unless enough has been written on their awoiaf page. The Golden Company are notorious for both of those things... in the books. In the show though I think the fact they took Cersei's contract was solely down to gold as going up against two dragons, unsullied, dothraki and the North while literally everybody else detests you isn't really winnable, so as long as Tywin offers their price, they'd join him.**


	25. The Mockingbird

**It's fitting that the longest chapter so far in the story is the one that has two battles! I'll keep this short so we can get right into it, as the Stark/Riverlands/Vale alliance tries to force their way into both the Westerlands and King's Landing!**

**The vantage point I talk about in Robb's first scene is the same one that Jaime sees the blown-up sept in Season 6. I'm also using the map found on the King's Landing page of A Wiki of Ice and Fire for the roads and gates of King's Landing.**

**Some of the dialogue from Jon's scene is borrowed from the episode 'Lord Snow'. **

**I own nothing but Torrhen Stark.**

* * *

Lord Leo Lefford was an old man now having lived and fought through the Reyne Rebellion, Robert's Rebellion and even the Greyjoy Rebellion, and the sight of around 30,000 men bearing banners of most of the Northern and Riverland houses early in the morning just made him sigh. He ensured that his daughter and heir, Alysanne, was locked away safely with the other women and children of the castle before pulling the majority of his forces out to the eastern walls of the castle that blocked the Riverlands from the Westerlands.

He was confident, however. The only time the Tooth had fallen in recent history was during the First Blackfyre Rebellion, and that had only been due to the divided loyalties of the Houses of the Westerlands. When the West had remained in unity, the Tooth had never fallen.

He walked along the parapets and stared down at the gathered forces once more from up high. The direwolf of House Stark the most prominent. "Are we well stocked?" He asked one of his captains.

"Yes My Lord." The man replied.

Leo nodded the once. "Good, then rain arrows down on them."

"ARCHERS!" The call went up. "NOCK YOUR ARROWS!" The numerous archers on the different levels of the Tooth's walls all nocked arrows to their bows. "DRAW!" The captain shouted.

A roar from beneath them almost shook the castle walls, as the thousands of men on the road all charged towards the Golden Tooth. "Do it!" Leo shouted.

"LOOSE!"

The sound of the arrows leaving their bows gave Leo true joy, and he watched on as the number of arrows almost darkened the early morning sun. The enemy vanguard created a hasty shield wall, but enough arrows hit their targets to cause a moment of quiet celebration among the castle's defenders.

Another volley of arrows followed, as well as another before the first line of Rivermen were at the base of the walls. "Drop rocks and oil!" Leo commanded.

"ROCKS AND OIL!" The command was repeated, and Leo smiled happily, until a call came from inside the castle behind him.

"My Lord! My Lord!" A lowly knight was screaming.

"What is it?" Lefford snapped.

The man was panting. "Baratheon banners… Stark banners… they've come from the West!"

Lefford laughed. "That's impossible." He shook his head. "There's no way they have managed to all of the castles on the northern coastline AND Sarsfield. We'd have heard by now."

"My Lord… they are truly here." The man was almost in tears and Leo noticed an arrow in his hamstring. "Ser Jeffrey Hale… he's dead. An arrow took him, and he fell over the battlements!"

Jeffrey was an old friend of Leo's, and the news angered him. "Get out of my way." He pushed the man aside and walked through the castle, snaking through a couple of corridors until he had a vantage point looking westwards. The man was right. Thousands more men were streaming towards the Golden Tooth from inside the Westerlands themselves. Lord Leo Lefford gulped, and said to nobody in particular. "We're fucked."

* * *

The entire procedure had been swift. As soon as Torrhen had interrupted the King's training session and shown them the goat track, everyone knew that it was a massive opportunity that they couldn't pass up. Torrhen had wanted to do as Robb had done in the last life and snuck by the Golden Tooth, but King Robert turned him down, stating that Tywin needed to be shown that he was deadly serious. That was when the plan had been thought up. Torrhen and King Robert would lead a quarter of the army through the goat track and set up out of sight of the castle, and as soon as they were ready to attack a series of fires would be lit, until one could be seen by the eastern forces led by Ned and Edmure.

They took the track the night after Torrhen warged with Balerion leading the way, and as dawn broke King Robert ordered the fires to be lit. Almost immediately the roars and shouts of the eastern forces filtered through to them, and Torrhen gripped his Weirwood Bow tightly as their own forces ran at the castle.

His first arrow hit an aging man atop the walls and caused him to fall to the ground their side of the castle walls with a sickening thud. His second made a younger man stumble as he ran away, causing Torrhen to curse. He was near the back of the charge now with the King and his Kingsguard, with Rodrik Forrester having been chosen by Torrhen to lead the Wolfswood and Flint forces that had been sent with Torrhen. As he advanced slowly, storing his bow on his back and unsheathing Winter's Bite he saw Rodrik was the first up the ladders, the Ironrath heir pulling one of the defenders over his shoulder and down into the crowds.

By the time Torrhen and King Robert were at the castle the western gates were opened, and thousands of men charged towards the defence of the eastern part of the castle. Torrhen's body was still young, but he was quick and the Valyrian Steel in his hands was sharp, carving through bone and flesh like a knife through butter. King Robert was also enjoying himself, while he wasn't very quick and his Kingsguard surrounded him for protection, he wielded a blade well and his surcoat was very quickly covered in blood.

Leo Lefford had gathered around 3,000 men to the Golden Tooth to defend it, and each man was giving it their all. Torrhen was too late to save Noseless Ned Woods as he got his head caved in with a mace, but the young Stark managed to disembowel the killer. Torrhen also noticed a number of Frey's that found themselves on the wrong end of the Lefford's blades. With Rhaegar, Petyr Pimple and Benfrey all among those dead that Torrhen recognised.

The western force eventually managed to overpower the eastern gate soldiers, and with both gates open the castle was ripe for the taking. It was only after Lord Leo Lefford himself died at the hands of Eddard Karstark, the Northman's sword driving its way through the old man's neck, that the castle itself surrendered. Torrhen soon caught up with his Father, the younger Stark's armour coated with both drying and wet blood and his sword dripping red.

"You look like you fought well." Ned said, admiringly.

Torrhen grinned, panting. They managed to lean against a wall in the courtyard as Stevron Frey led the sorting through prisoners. "Once Rodrik was over the walls we had them." Torrhen admitted. "Although I did expect them to surrender quicker."

"We're coming to their homes, foreigners invading." Ned shrugged. "There will be more castles like this before we are done."

Torrhen nodded. He saw King Robert grinning widely as he spoke with Ser Barristan up on one of the ramparts. Torrhen gestured to the King. "His Grace enjoyed himself."

"Aye?" Ned asked. Torrhen nodded again. "Robert always loved a fight. Gods, seeing him in the Stoney Sept was a sight to behold. Once he loses the weight and packs on some muscle again, he will be a new man I am sure."

As Ned said that, the Baratheon King walked over to them laughing. "I've missed this, Ned! Gods what a fight!" He ruffled Torrhen's hair too. "And without you, we would have never taken the castle with so few losses!"

"How many?" Ned asked.

Robert shrugged. "We're still sorting bodies. At a guess… two thousand? Mainly from your side."

"Aye, it was a bloody business." Ned said solemnly. "We should rest up here for a while and plan our next move."

Grinning, Robert agreed. "Maybe I should send for that wanton wife of mine, have an actual heir conceived in the Westerlands just to spite that old fuck Tywin."

Torrhen laughed at the image, but Ned shook his head. "The amount of noise you two made on our way down to Riverrun I think you'd scare our forces more than you'd annoy Tywin Lannister."

Robert burst out laughing. "She's a screamer, Ned. What can I say?"

Torrhen snorted another laugh and excused himself. He left the castle on the Western side and whistled loudly before going for a piss against the castle walls. Shaking himself dry he turned to see Balerion sprinting at him and got to one knee, petting the direwolf's black fur.

"Good boy." Torrhen grinned. "I know you wanted to join in, but you're too valuable to me to lose in a brawl like this."

Balerion just panted, his tongue hanging out. Torrhen chuckled and stood, looking down the River Road into the Westerlands. Soon enough they'd come to the end of the road and Lannisport, and justice would be served on the Lannisters.

* * *

Lord Royce had overseen the final march to King's Landing and with his Vale Knights led the final descent down the hills towards the sprawling capital, leaving Robb a chance to look down on the city from the vantage point on the road. Together with Domeric Bolton, a man that Robb was surprised to find himself calling friend, they stared down at the city. He could just about make out the yellow banners on the walls, but what interested him more was the crowd of people he could just about see gathered at the Red Keep's gates.

"This is what millions of people have died over." Domeric said, turning his nose up. "I can smell it from here."

Robb could too. "It's the symbol that gets fought over, not the city itself. The Iron Throne is the Kingdom."

"I just hope His Grace hasn't thrown that away in his departure." Domeric noted. Nodding his agreement, Robb looked for a little longer at the coastal city before he turned his horse to gallop alongside the Northern infantry.

It was only an hour later when the army had settled outside of the walls. Robb had expected to have been let in straight away as they also flew the King's own banner with Ser Mandon Moore of the Kingsguard in their ranks. The yellow banners hadn't been the Baratheon banners however, but a small bird was in place of the crowned stag.

"Littlefinger's own." Mandon Moore stated bluntly. "The fucker has actually taken over."

Robb grimaced. "We need to get through those walls." He said the obvious.

Lord Royce had also joined them. "Yes, we do." He turned to Robb. "Get your men to start cutting down the trees. We will start to build siege weapons, and be noisy about it." He then turned back to face the walls of the city. "Let every man, woman and child inside those walls know that we are here."

* * *

The Dothraki Khalasar had been riding for weeks, and Jon was already sick of the journey. Even more so when Ser Jorah had told him that they weren't even halfway there yet as soon as he recognised the Forest of Qohor in the distance. He kept strong though, providing company for Daenerys whenever she wanted it. Thankfully for Jon, that included today as they rode along a straight path between acres of bamboo plants.

Jon noticed Daenerys looking sympathetically at the slaves that walked alongside the Khalasar, although not anywhere close to Jon, as they were all scared of the ever-silent Ghost walking alongside him. He took in the view of the Targaryen beauty, her dresses gone and replaced with more traditional Dothraki clothing. She was a true Khaleesi in looks now, and Jon noted that the other Dothraki seemed to respect her more because of that.

His attention was taken from the captivating beauty of Daenerys to her having flinched due to a slave being whipped for not keeping up the pace. Jon checked around to make sure Ser Jorah wasn't in earshot and said to Daenerys. "I find it jarring, coming here where slavery is so prevalent."

"Westeros has none?" She asked.

Jon shook his head. "Not the mainland, any man that tries their hand at slaving faces death."

Daenerys smiled sadly. "I know it's their way of life. But it still feels wrong to me." Jon just nodded, and they continued riding down the lengthy path. A few moments after they had spoken the slave was whipped again rougher than before and accompanied by shouting in Dothrak. Dany winced once again at the action, and she turned around to Jorah behind her. "Tell them all to stop."

Jorah looked at her questioningly, riding to the other side of Daenerys. "You want the entire horde to stop?" He asked. "For how long?"

Jon thought that Daenerys looked scared for the briefest of seconds as the riders behind them stopped, though that quickly went as Daenerys realised what her position was in the Khalasar now. "Until I command them otherwise." She said firmly.

Jorah looked impressed and nodded his head. "You're beginning to talk like a Queen."

"Not a Queen." Daenerys told the knight as she stared ahead. "A Khaleesi." She dismounted her horse quickly. "Jon." She called, not looking back as she walked into the bamboo. Jon looked back at Jory who just shrugged back at him before he dismounted his own horse and followed her, Ghost following at his heel.

The man and direwolf followed Daenerys' path through the bamboo shoots until they hit a small clearing, and Daenerys looked like she really needed the breather. "Are you ok?" Jon asked.

"One day." She told him. "I will persuade Drogo to not rule by slavery. It's barbaric."

Jon looked at her sadly. "The Dothraki are barbaric, Khaleesi. It is their way of life."

"It shouldn't be." She bit back with passion. "All people should be free to do as they…" She paused as rustling in the bamboo could be heard. Jon heard it too and kept his hand on his sword hilt as they both moved to look in the direction of the noise. Horse hooves and neighing grew louder until out of the bamboo rode Viserys Targaryen, sword in his hand.

"You dare! You give commands to me? To me!?" He dismounted his horse and strode towards Daenerys. Ghost was growling at Viserys now, but Jon waved his hand to keep the direwolf in place as he unsheathed his own sword. Viserys looked over at Jon now. "Put that away now, bastard, before you hurt yourself." He mocked.

"You first." Jon challenged, not scared of the silver haired prince.

Dany turned her head. "Jon." She said gently, shaking her head. She turned back to Viserys. "I didn't command you, Viserys. I commanded the Khalasar."

"Which I am now a part of until your barbarian husband gives me my army!" Viserys raged, pointing his sword at Daenerys. "I am the dragon! I will not be commanded by a savages slut!"

Jon had had enough by then and pulled Daenerys behind him, holding his sword adjacent to Viserys'. "Apologise now." He said coldly, moving his sword to touch Viserys'.

Ghost was truly growling by now, baring his teeth at the Valyrian male. The pair stared at one another for an age, glaring between themselves and daring the other to make the first move. That honour fell to Viserys as he pulled his sword back to swing, only to drop his blade at the crack of a whip and pull them up to his throat, trying to loosen the cow hide that was strangling him.

Jon breathed easier and lowered his sword at the sight of the Jorah, Jory and Rakharo riding in to meet them with his and Daenerys' horses following them. Irri, Daenerys' handmaid, was also running behind them. Rakharo was the one with the whip, and he barked out something in Dothraki, which Irri duly translated. "Rakharo ask if you want him dead, Khaleesi."

"No!" Daenerys exclaimed quickly. Rakharo took that in, before saying something else with a sly grin that Jon didn't understand.

"Rakharo say you should take ear." Irri translated. "To teach respect."

"Please, please don't hurt him!" Dany cried, before composing herself with a look from Jorah. "Tell him I do not want my brother harmed." She said firmly, over the gasps of Viserys on the floor. Irri translated that into Dothraki, to which Rakharo obviously questioned. Irri shrugged her shoulders, and released the whip, allowing Viserys to break free and scramble to his feet, gasping for breath.

"Mormont!" He cried. "Kill these Dothraki dogs!" Jon was almost preparing himself to fight to defend the Dothraki, but thankfully the Northern knight held a long look between himself and Rakharo, before aiming a look of defiance towards the dishevelled Targaryen. That enraged Viserys. "I am your King!" He screamed.

Jorah continued the look, before he turned to Daenerys. "Shall we return to the Khalasar, Khaleesi?" He asked her. Daenerys said nothing, instead she turned her back on both her brother and Jon to mount her horse.

Jon sheathed his blade and mounted his own. "Come, Ghost." He called, making sure that the direwolf wasn't going to do anything stupid before he kicked his horse into movement and followed Jory out. Jon could see Daenerys riding ahead with Jorah and not looking back at him and felt a bit down at the rejection.

"What were you thinking?" Jory asked him through gritted teeth. "Pulling your blade on her brother?"

Jon didn't take his eyes off of the back of Daenerys' head, watching it sway as she rode. "I was thinking about her." Was all he said.

* * *

The siege of King's Landing lasted around a week. Lord Royce had managed to get the barest of a naval presence in Blackwater Bay to stop any resupply by sea, and there was a presence of either Northmen or Valemen on every single gate leading into the city. Robb had been handed the Dragon Gate with his personal force of 4,000 men and was completely bored out of his skull. For the most part, all he did was train with his squire Larence Snow.

On the seventh day however, while Robb was sparring with the 13-year-old bastard of Hornwood, there was a bit of a commotion, and the men nearest the gates were all walking towards the city. Robb stopped the spar there and then, flexing his grip on the training sword and saying to Larence. "Grab my longsword." The boy ran off, leaving Robb to walk slowly towards the Dragon Gate. Larence caught up with him as he made it to the gathering crowd, handing Robb his sword and having gathered his horse too. Robb pushed his way through to the front of the lines to see men in gold cloaks hanging by their necks from the tops of the walls. Intrigued, Robb waited in place on horseback with his men as Grey Wind soon joined him, and not long after that the gate opened.

The view inside was surprising. The smallfolk were seemingly rising up and attacking the Gold Cloaks. Robb sensed the opportunity and raised his sword high; he rode in front of the Stark men that had joined him. "PROTECT THE SMALLFOLK! KILL THE GOLD CLOAKS! FOR WINTERFELL! FOR THE KING!" He roared.

"FOR WINTERFELL! FOR THE KING!" His men repeated loudly before charging in with a lengthy cry. Robb led the line of a few hundred horseman as they charged towards the now open gate, streaming into the city and cutting through the gold cloaks they could see. Robb had the first kill, leaning down to the left and thrusting his sword out and into a scarred man's throat.

The entire city seemed like a warzone. Everywhere that Robb went there were smallfolk ganging up on Gold Cloaks, using anything that they could get their hands on as weapons. It certainly made life easier for Robb and his forces as they rode around the Hill of Rhaenys and the Dragonpit towards the Red Keep. As he led his men down by Fleabottom, he was surprised to see Ser Wylis Manderly and the White Harbour men join them from the Iron Gate.

"The gate just opened for us!" Ser Wylis shouted as he reunited with Robb.

"Aye!" Robb shouted, rearing his horse and slashing open another Gold Cloak. "Same with us!"

"I think it's city wide!" Ser Wylis cried over the noise of the fighting.

Robb thought on that. "We ride for the Red Keep then! Take that, we take the city!"

He spurred his horse onwards, leading a charge down Fleabottom to the cheers of the residents, once they left the slum it was a left turn towards the Red Keep, where there were now thousands of men gathered trying to batter down the gates. Luckily Robb was on horseback so made his way down through the crowd with relative ease, although he suspected that that was also down to the few thousand men behind him in Northern colours.

The Gates of the Red Keep were admittedly very strong, but not strong enough to keep out thousands of angry and starving peasants. The number of them bashing the gates regularly eventually won out, and the Gold Cloaks inside were soon swarmed. While most ran about the outside of the castle, Robb and his men immediately rushed to the castle itself, not knowing what to expect inside.

* * *

The doors to the Throne Room were thrown open by Northerners, and Robb was the first to walk inside. As with the rest of the city the banners were the black mockingbird on a yellow field, and Petyr Baelish was sat on the Iron Throne, the severed head of an old man on the floor beside him. There were at least two dozen men in gold cloaks between Baelish and the Northern men.

"Lord Petyr Baelish." Robb called out, his voice deep with authority. "In the name of Robert of House Baratheon, the first of his name. King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. I, Robb of House Stark, heir to Winterfell do sentence you to die for the crime of treason."

"Treason?" Baelish called. "I call it conquering. Robert Baratheon left the throne open for the taking!"

Robb scoffed. "You surely didn't believe that you would have managed to take the Iron Throne like this? The Lords would have never stood for it."

"It has been done before." Baelish shrugged nonchalantly. "Trystane Truefyre ruled from the seat of King's during the Dance as nothing more than an alleged royal bastard."

"And he was betrayed by his closest advisor." Robb exclaimed, bewildered. "Step down and surrender, and I promise you a fair trial."

Baelish laughed, straightening himself on the Iron Throne. "I'll be cut down anyway." Baelish said bitterly. "King Robert wants me dead; I know it. He wanted it before he abandoned the people of King's Landing. I only took the Throne to settle the city."

"They're gave up the city." Robb told him. "Your smallfolk rose up against you and your hired army to let us in."

Baelish scowled. "And they shall pay for that." He sighed, standing up. "In another life, you would have been my child with my beloved Catelyn. She would have seen I loved her more than any Stark could possibly have hoped to."

"My mother would never have loved you." Robb spat venomously. "She knows you for who you are, she knows you for a man who pits sister against sister, the man who stole my Aunt Lysa's maidenhead for his own because he couldn't have hers. You probably killed her too."

"Never." Baelish argued back.

"It matters not." Robb silenced Baelish before he could say any more. He turned to the Gold Cloaks then. "If any of you do not wish to die for this man's greed, drop your weapons and surrender yourself to us now. You will be guaranteed your life, I swear it on all the Gods."

"Bring me his head!" Baelish roared from the Throne. Robb could see a madness in him, one that had no doubt been granted by that damned Iron chair. He sensed his many Northmen behind him readying themselves for a fight.

Robb saw one man on the right-hand side of the room turn to his fellow Gold Cloaks. "Fuck this." The man said loudly, and dropped his sword, walking over to the Northmen. "You swear we'll keep our heads?"

Robb nodded. "You committed treason by following this usurper, but you've surrendered to me. I guarantee you safe passage to the Wall. Better to keep your life and spend the rest of it defending mankind from the threats that lurk beyond than to die for a failed cause."

The man looked distraught at the thought of the Wall but nodded. "I suppose I have no choice. I surrender, Lord Stark."

Robb didn't have the time to argue that he wasn't Lord Stark yet, as more men dropped their swords and surrendered to his men. "Cowards!" Baelish screamed. "Ser Slynt, kill them all!"

The bald-headed man looked like he was about to shit himself, but one glare from Littlefinger made him and the 5 others that hadn't surrendered rush towards Robb and his men. Robb decapitated Slynt easily enough, as he advanced on the Iron Throne. Littlefinger was trapped, and he knew it.

"Mercy." The man began to beg, sat again on the Iron Throne. "I loved your Mother since I was a boy…"

Robb shook his head. "You had your chance, Lord Baelish."

"Cat wouldn't…"

"Do not speak her name!" Robb shouted angrily. "She would be ashamed at you!" He clenched his spare fist and composed himself. "I'll repeat. In the name of King Robert I sentence you to die. Will you speak a final word?"

Littlefinger gulped. "Tell Cat…"

He didn't get to finish. As soon as his Mother's name left Littlefinger's lips Robb roared and pierced the man's heart with his longsword. Baelish gasped and looked down at the blade, blood beginning to pour from his lips before he fell limp on the Iron Throne. Robb closed his eyes and asked for forgiveness for his rash execution from the Old Gods before he pulled his blade out and grabbed Littlefinger's collar, throwing him off of the Iron Throne.

"Take his head. Place it on a spike." Robb ordered to nobody in particular. "And find somebody that can send word of this to Riverrun. The city is ours once more."

* * *

**Two fairly major battles in one chapter then! Firstly at the Golden Tooth, where this time they don't bypass it as Robert wants a secure entrance and exit for their campaign into the Westerlands. There were a number of casualties however, but Rodrik Forrester and Eddard Karstark both made a name for themselves…**

**As for King's Landing, I like to think of it as Littlefinger getting Dragon Sickness as mentioned in the Hobbit. The Throne was empty, and he was one of the senior small council members. He's always dreamed of it so why not take it? Unfortunately the smallfolk weren't happy at this new development and rose up to aid Robb and Yohn Royce take the city back for Robert.**

**And finally Jon may have made a mistake with Dany, although all he was doing was trying to protect her from Viserys...**

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter, let me know what you think! Next time we have Stannis arriving at King's Landing just too late, but that brings us a Stark reunion. There's also trouble brewing in the North that will affect all of the Northerners…**

**Reviews:**

**Bad Ass Female Fighter: It will put him even more in a corner with nobody to turn too…**

**Masso 2010: It'll be just Balerion.**

**ZabuzasGirl: He's not an idiot, he's just a bit short tempered.**

**Hear My Fury: Robert won't sacrifice his new wife's family purely because the readers don't like Frey's. That being said three did die in this battle. And while I didn't necessarily like the 'teleportation' I understand it as time passing quicker in the latter series than they did in the earlier ones. But in terms of teleportation the first episode spanned at least a month by itself.**

**Guest (advantage): It does. The Wildlings prove that wargs are extremely useful.**

**Freakdogsflare: At this point not many people know Jon's true identity. For example only Jon knows the truth in the entirety of Essos. Olenna would never consider marrying Margaery to a bastard.**

**Lightningscar: It's pretty funny to me how you always seem to review on the exact day that I'm ready to update the story! **


	26. We Do Not Sow

**A bit of a calmer chapter than the last one I suppose… although I really did enjoy writing some of these moments. This will probably be my last upload for a week or so as I catch up on the Arrowverse while Crisis on Infinite Earths is ongoing, and I have some personal matters to see to. Fingers crossed I'll be back with another chapter ASAP though.**

**Some of the dialogue belongs to the season 1 episode 'Lord Snow'. There is also both written out Dothraki and translated Dothraki in this chapter, as Jon is starting to learn the language, so I'll put the translations of the phrases he doesn't know in my 'outro'.**

**I own nothing but Torrhen, anything and anyone else belongs to HBO or George R R Martin.**

* * *

Bran had been loving life over the last few weeks, and he hated to admit that. The world was at war, his Father and Torrhen were fighting hard in the Westerlands and Robb had even taken King's Landing. While the thought of fighting terrified him luckily he had been well away from any, instead having followed Stannis to Storm's End where Renly Baratheon had begun to gather 20,000 men, with a further 10,000 having bolstered the defences at the Dornish Marches under Lord Beric Dondarrion. From there Bran had explored the massive drum tower of the Baratheon stronghold as well as learning both swordplay and strategy off of his mentor, Stannis.

They were there for a little while before all the men arrived at Storm's End and Bran was lucky enough to sit in on the final planning meeting. He heard about his Father and Torrhen's victory at the Golden Tooth, and even heard that Robb was sieging King's Landing due to one of the advisors to King Robert going rogue. That coupled with the uncertain loyalty of the Reach had left the Baratheon brothers to part ways, with Renly marching out with 10,000 men towards Fawnton so that he could dissuade the Reach from attacking them, or even get them to join their side.

Bran however marched the next day. Stannis wanted to aid Robb in taking King's Landing, and so the young Stark was part of the march up the Kingsroad and through the Kingswood, only to reach the capital the day after all of the fighting had finished.

As they entered the capital and rode up towards the Red Keep Bran noticed a number of men stood waiting for them. He even recognised most of the banners he thought, the Northern ones were obvious, with Manderly and Bolton surrounding the Stark banner. He even recognised the Royce banner and the elderly Lord that stood in front of them, although the other ones he wasn't too sure on, presuming them to be Vale Lords.

Stannis immediately walked up the Lord Royce and had a conversation that Bran couldn't actually hear, before the Baratheon Lord announced. "We'll reconvene in the Small Council chamber." Stannis then walked up to Bran. "Your brother is here, yes?" Bran nodded. "I'll need him to attend the meeting too, but you haven't seen him in a while. Have 10 minutes before you settle my things into my old chambers, you remember where they are?"

"I do, Lord Stannis." Bran answered.

"Good." Stannis said gruffly. "10 minutes."

Bran bowed his head as he waited for Stannis and his Stormlander delegation to walk with the Vale Lords and the other Northern Lords inside the Red Keep. Once they had gone, he sprinted towards Robb with a grin, throwing himself in his older brother's arms. They hugged fiercely for a long time, before Robb put him down on the ground and cupped Bran's cheek in his palm.

"Look at you." Robb said with a grin. "You're carrying a blade now and everything."

"Lord Stannis says we never know what to expect while at war, so to always be prepared." Bran recited. "It was made for me specially on Dragonstone."

Robb was pleased. "I'm just sorry that I couldn't give you your first blade. Although I do have a gift for you." Bran looked up questioningly at his brother, who just whistled loudly. They were waiting a moment before what looked like two adult wolves came racing towards them, stopping by Robb's feet. One was a dark grey, while the other was more of a soft golden colouring, and Bran recognised the golden one from his dreams of drinking.

"Summer!" He exclaimed. The direwolf almost smiled, wagging his tail and walking up to Bran, who stroked the wolf. "You're real!"

Robb was bemused. "You know his name? He was meant to be a surprise. Was it Torrhen that spoiled it? Or Sansa?"

Bran shook his head. "I dreamed of him. And you, and Grey Wind. He was drinking by a river, with lots of tents."

Robb looked surprised. "You dream of him?"

"Well, I dream I am him." Bran shrugged as if it was nothing. Robb had a thoughtful look in his eyes, but he shook it away as he smiled warmly once more.

"You can tell me all about them later, along with your adventures." Robb grinned. He put his arm around Bran and guided him inside. "And I'll tell you all about mine." They walked towards the entrance to the castle, but Bran stopped when he noticed a number of severed heads spiked along one of the castle walls. Robb noticed that and knelt beside Bran. He pointed to one of them, a dark-haired man with a goatee. "That was Lord Baelish." Robb explained. "He betrayed the King and took over the city because he lusted for power and the throne. There's also Grand Maester Pycelle, who was an agent of Tywin Lannister, Ser Meryn Trant, who broke his Kingsguard vows to let the Lannister's escape and then joined Baelish for money, and Janos Slynt, the commander of the Gold Cloaks who fought alongside Baelish to the end."

"Did you kill them?" Bran asked solemnly. The heads frightened him, but he was a Stark of Winterfell and he wouldn't show his fear.

Robb shook his head. "Pycelle was dead already, we found out his crimes afterwards. Trant was killed by Lord Royce within the city, but the other two were my own kills. Does that frighten you?" Bran quickly went to shake his head but nodded slowly after a moment. "That's ok." Robb admitted. "You're only young now, Bran, but this is what war is like. You may even have to take a life."

"I'm not that good yet." Bran admitted.

Robb smirked. "Neither was I at your age, but I learnt, and you will too." The elder looked at the two direwolves then. "Just keep Summer close until you do."

* * *

When Theon Greyjoy had fallen asleep with his face pressed deeply into the whore Ros' breasts, he didn't expect to be awoken by a shriek from the girl. He rubbed his eyes groggily to see 5 men in the Stark armour led by Ser Rodrik Cassel, all with their swords out and pointing at him, while Ros was cowering in the corner.

"Ser Rodrik?" The Greyjoy asked sleepily. "What's going on?"

Ser Rodrik to his credit looked guilty at what he was doing. "Best come with us quietly lad, don't make this harder than it already is?"

Theon moved the blankets to uncover his nakedness as he put his clothes from the night before back on. "Am I in trouble?" Theon asked.

"Not if you cooperate." Rodrik told him. Theon nodded, confused. He went to put his sword belt on but Rodrik edged closer. "We'll take the weapon."

"What's going on?" Theon asked, getting impatient. "I've been allowed to carry steel since I was 16."

"That was before your Father decided to assault the North." One of the guards spat.

Rodrik wheeled around angrily. "Quiet!" He hissed, before turning around to face Theon once more. "Just surrender your weapon and come with us Theon. Lady Stark will fill you in."

Unhappily, Theon shoved the sheathed sword into one of the men's hands, before taking his coin purse and throwing it at Ros, who caught it deftly. "Don't forget me." He smirked at the red head.

Theon quickly was put on his horse and made the short ride from Wintertown to Winterfell surrounded on all sides, to be met by Lady Catelyn and an unhappy looking Arya. The Stark matriarch looked sternly towards him. "Have you taken his weapons, Ser Rodrik?" She asked.

"I have, My Lady." Ser Rodrik bowed.

"Good." Catelyn nodded the once. "Have Theon escorted to his new chambers."

"New chambers?" Theon asked rudely. "Lady Catelyn, I…"

"Save it." Catelyn snapped. She turned quickly and escorted Arya into the Great Keep, while Theon himself was escorted towards the dungeons. His things had already been moved, although none of his daggers or bows had made the journey. The door was soon locked behind him, and no amount of knocking or screaming would unlock the ironwood.

By the second hour Theon was bored stiff. He was sulking on his bed when the door unlocked, allowing Lady Catelyn and an armed Ser Rodrik to enter before it was locked behind them. "My Lady. What am I doing here?" Theon asked.

Catelyn moved over to the small window and stared out at the courtyard. "Two days ago we received a rider from Blackpool on the Stoney Shore. Greyjoy ships were spotted in the distance and Lord Slate was preparing to defend the castle." She began explaining. "Since then we have had more riders and ravens. A raven from Flint's Finger claiming that their scouts have seen the _Iron Victory_ sailing the Saltspear towards the Fever river, and then from up and down the west coast claiming more Ironborn ships are preparing for attack."

"The _Iron Victory_?" Theon asked. "That's my uncle Victarion's ship…"

"It is." Catelyn nodded. "And considering you being in Winterfell, we are quite surprised to see it sailing Northern waters."

"But why am I in a cell?" Theon asked. "I don't know what they're doing."

Rodrik ground his teeth, before saying coldly. "Lord Stark treated you as his own, boy, but you were always here as a hostage."

"You were brought here to dissuade your Father from attacking the North." Catelyn told him. "Yet here he is, attacking the North. A decision that he was told would mean your death if he dared."

That scared Theon, before fear turned to anger. "Am I to be executed for the actions of a man I haven't known since I was 9?" He snarled.

Rodrik moved his hand to his sword, but Catelyn stopped him with a wave of her hand. "No, Theon. Lord Stark left strict instructions when it came to you." She admitted. "You are hereby restricted to one hour of exercise in the castle a day. You shall have no weapons and you shall be guarded by two men at all times. Two meals a day will be brought to you here, one at dawn and one at dusk." Ser Rodrik pounded on the door three times and it was unlocked. Lady Stark went to leave, but she turned back to the now prisoner and said softly. "For what it's worth, I am sorry. We will try and agree a peace with your Father for your sake."

And with that, she was gone, leaving Theon alone locked away in a comfy cell wondering why his family cared so little for him that they'd risk his life like this.

* * *

Jon Snow was finally used to the Dothraki style of lying underneath the stars. Luckily the Essosi nights weren't too cold, and Ser Jorah had always made sure to have a fire going for the Northerners to lie by.

Daenerys had retired to her tent to get ready for another night with the Khal, and Jon frustratingly hadn't made any more progress in getting the Targaryen girl to speak to him again. To pass the time, both Jorah and Rakharo were teaching him some Dothraki dialect, while at the same time teaching the Dothraki man some of the common tongue. Ser Jorah held Rakharo's arakh in his hands as the two compared weapons.

"For a man on horseback, the curved blade is a good thing, easier to handle." The exiled knight was saying while stroking the flat edge of the arakh. "It's a good weapon for a Dothrakaan. But for a man in full plate, shori tawakof." Jorah was explaining, gesturing to his chest as he spoke. "The arakh won't get through the steel." Rakharo took the arakh back as Jorah reached for his own longsword. "That's where the broadsword has the advantage, designed for piercing."

"And it's better in one on one combat. Defence." Jon added. Jorah translated it for him at Rakharo's confused look, and Rakharo laughed, speaking in Dothraki. Jon managed to catch the gist of what he was saying, that the Dothraki did not need to defend if they kill properly the first time. "Sometimes defence is necessary. That's why the steel plate… shuri tarakov?" He asked Jorah if he had the right translation.

"Shori tawakof." Jorah corrected.

"Shori tawakof, that's why that comes in handy." Jon finished.

Rakharo just grinned at Jon and again spoke in Dothraki, although happily Jon understood the phrase. "_**Dothraki don't wear steel dresses**_."

"Armour." Jorah translated for the Dothraki man.

"Armour." Rakharo tested. Armour make a man… Vroz?"

"Slow." Jon beat Jorah to the punch, happy that his learning was coming along nicely.

"Aye, slow." Jorah confirmed. "It may make a man slow, but it also keeps him alive."

Rakharo was about to speak some more, but Daenerys' handmaid slave Irri came up to them determinedly and spoke in Dothraki to Rakharo. "Khaleesi zala meme adakha esinakh ajjalan. Ogi loy mawizzi."

Jon didn't understand a word of what the girl had just said other than Khaleesi and rabbits, but he did manage to understand Rakharo when he said. "_**There are no rabbits**_."

"Ezas loy alegri h'anhaan. Mori allayafi mae, jin alegra**.**" Irri replied, again too fast and too difficult for Jon's basic knowledge to understand.

Thankfully, Jorah whispered into Jon's ear as Rakharo responded. "The Khaleesi wants something different to eat tonight." Jon nodded his thanks.

Rakharo must have chastised Irri a bit judging by his tone, but Irri was very determined. "_**Dogs then. I have seen many dogs**_." She told them.

"I don't think she wants to eat dog." Jorah interrupted the slave girl.

Irri took a moment, and then looked at the Mormont knight and spoke in the common tongue. "The Khaleesi have baby inside her." That rocked Jon, as well as the other two men sat around the fire. Jon however realised that he almost felt disappointed at the news, maybe even slightly angry. Shoving away the unnecessary feelings, he waited for Irri to continue. "It is true. She does not bleed for two moons, her belly start to swell."

Jon couldn't look anywhere but directly at the fire as he began to process the news. He couldn't speak in case his tongue said something that he would regret. Thankfully Rakharo broke the silence with something that Jon could understand. "_**A blessing from the great stallion**_."

"She does not want to eat horse." Irri told them all.

Jon reached around into his pack and pulled out a few of the treats from Winterfell. "Here, give the Khaleesi some of these." He offered. Irri looked at him suspiciously but took the biscuits.

Jorah leant forwards, stroking his beard with one hand. "I'll have the boys butcher a goat for her supper too." He added.

That appeased Irri, as she nodded sharply and fled the room. Jon breathed out heavily, staring back into the flames. "Wow." He said finally, as it was all he could say. "I think I'm going to get some sleep." He told the pair, not looking back at them as he walked over to his bedroll next to a snoring Jory. Sleep didn't come easily however, as all he could think about was the baby growing inside Daenerys Targaryen.

* * *

Stannis' integration into life in King's Landing had been effective to say the least. With the Stormlanders came more than enough food and medical care for the city to recover, and the Lord of Dragonstone had immediately sent the Maesters that had travelled with the Stormlanders and other healers out to help the smallfolk recover from their wounds from the battle.

Robb meanwhile had spent the majority of his time either sat in council meetings as the commander of the Northern forces or spending time with Bran, teaching him about how to look after a direwolf, sparring with his younger brother and even talking about married life and what Bran could expect. It had been good, the heir to Winterfell would admit. That was until the news came from Winterfell.

He was sat at the small council chamber with his hands clasped together and elbows on the wooden surface trying not to lose his cool as Stannis, Davos and Yohn Royce were actively discussing the Ironborn, as the other two Northerners, Roose Bolton and Wylis Manderly, alongside Lord Redfort and Morton Waynwood kept quiet. His thoughts went back to the vision that Torrhen showed him of Winterfell bearing the banners of the golden kraken, of Theon and Yara Greyjoy inside the castle, of Ser Rodrik Cassel losing his head. His knuckles went white as he clenched his hands tighter.

"Where will they go next?" Lord Royce asked the room.

"The Fever River and Moat Cailin." Roose Bolton answered. "They'll try and take our only route home."

Stannis looked at Davos for a moment. "What if it wasn't your only route?" The former smuggler asked.

"There is no other way around the Neck, Ser Davos." Lord Redfort told the man smugly. "Enough Valemen have tried and failed in the past."

"We have the Royal Fleet." Stannis told the Valeman. "The entire Royal Fleet."

That made Robb look up. "Could it carry the Northmen that are here?" He asked.

Davos nodded his head. "It will likely be a bit of a squeeze, but I don't see why not."

Stannis agreed. "Lord Robb, if you lead your Northmen back to White Harbour and march to defeat the Ironborn and either capture or burn as many ships as possible, we will then sail the Royal Fleet around Westeros and launch an assault on the Iron Islands after the Lannisters are defeated."

Robb looked at his two Northern counterparts. Wylis Manderly didn't know what to do, but Roose Bolton just nodded the once. "Aye, we can do that." Robb answered. "And we can lend our ships to you as well. There isn't a large number yet, but they're sturdy."

"Aye that will be more than helpful." Davos stated.

"We have ships in Gulltown too." Lord Royce told them. "More than enough for a good invasion party."

"And more than enough to decimate the Iron Fleet." Stannis added. "Very well, how soon can the ships be ready?"

Davos thought for a moment. "A week, maximum."

Stannis nodded at that. "Good. Then I believe that is all for today My Lords." The men in the room began to leave one by one, but Robb was called back by Stannis. "I wonder if you could do His Grace a favour, Lord Robb?"

"Aye, I could." Robb said.

Stannis moved over to a window and looked out of it. "There's a blacksmith in the city. A bastard of my brothers. I would ask you to take him North with you."

That wasn't what Robb was expecting. "You want me to take King Robert's bastard North?"

"Yes." Stannis answered. "Varys still hasn't been found and that concerns me more than it should. Queen Walda is also due in the Capital at some point and will no doubt bring a large contingent of Frey's." He said the last part extremely bitterly, Robb noticed. "I do not trust the Frey's, nor do I trust Varys. If either of them were to find out about a male born of Robert's seed…"

"It would cause trouble." Robb completed. "Aye, I share your concerns there My Lord. We'll find a place for him in the North, either in Winterfell or Moat Cailin I'm sure so we can keep him with a Stark."

Stannis looked appreciative of that, and Robb almost noticed him breathe a little easier. "Thank you, Lord Stark. You best prepare your men. I'll have Gendry sent to your camp before you leave."

Robb bowed his head quickly and departed the room, eager to spend as much time with his brother as he could before he left King's Landing.

* * *

After the quick wedding of Alysanne Lefford and Eddard Karstark, given to the second son of Rickard Karstark as a reward for being the one to slay Lord Leo, and a week of marching to Sarsfield, the resulting battle for the small Westerlands castle and the taking of it was over relatively quickly. With Lord Sarsfield away at Casterly Rock the garrison had been quickly overwhelmed and the green arrow banners of House Sarsfield had been replaced by the crowned stag of Baratheon. Things were looking good for the alliance, but a rider from the Golden Tooth bearing news from King's Landing changed all of that.

Robert had gathered all of the commanders in the main hall of Sarsfield and explained it all. "My Lords, Sers. The capital is ours once more!" He exclaimed. "Lord Royce and Robb Stark together incited a revolt within the city itself against the rule of the traitor Littlefinger, and now the fucker's head is impaled on a spike. My brother and apparent heir, Lord Stannis, now rules there in my stead. He does however bring news from the North." That intrigued everyone but Ned, who had been warned of it all beforehand. The Stark patriarch instead just sat there beside his son scowling. "Balon Greyjoy has decided to attempt his pity excuse of a rebellion once more and has made for the western coast of the North."

That sparked outrage, especially from the men and Mormont's that held lands on the west coast. Ned felt Torrhen tense up beside him. Maege Mormont got up and roared. "What holdings are threatened?"

Robert picked up his goblet and slammed it on the wooden table for silence. "All I know is that the North is holding! Deepwood Motte is among those that have thrown the Ironborn back into the sea, and they are now wasting their efforts upon the Saltspear and the Fever River!"

That brought more shouts, including that of Lord Wendell Glenmore, the Lord of Rillwater Crossing and a vassal of Lord Ryswell. "Let us go home and defend our keeps!" He roared.

Ned stood up then, and instantly the Northmen went silent. "My Lords, we prepared for this." Ned explained calmly. "Robett Glover and the Flints of Flint's Finger have done their part, and now the Ironborn seek to raid us further inland and take Moat Cailin, a castle that they shall never hold. I swear to you, Lord Howland will hold out, and my heir is due to depart King's Landing very soon with the entirety of his host and will smash the Ironborn back to the rocks they came from. Once this war is finished, we shall have our revenge I swear it."

That brought forward some murmurs of agreement, and Robert continued speaking. "For now our task is clear. Do what we are doing and break Tywin Lannister. From here it is a clear road to Lannisport with only villages in our way."

Louder cheers and cries of victory followed, leaving a smug Robert to lean back in his chair until the meeting was called to a halt, and the Northmen and Rivermen all began to vacate the room barring Ned. "Some still won't be happy." Ned warned. "It is their home, their people that are dying."

"Use your magic tongue again." Robert chuckled. "By the Seven Ned, all you had to do was stand and they all shut up."

Ned just shrugged. "They respect me, as I respect each and every one of them."

"You'd make a great Hand." Robert smiled, although Ned just scoffed.

"Your Grace, I'd be a terrible Hand." Ned insisted knowingly. "I know nothing of southern politics. The Northern life is a simple one, and I would keep to that until my last day."

Robert shook his head, standing up from his chair and closing the distance to his friend. "I need men around me I can trust, Ned. I've had too little of that lately and look at where it's gotten me. I trust nobody more than you."

"Me? All I've done is followed you into war once more, Robert." Ned said humbly. "Look eastwards for your new hand. There is a man that's served you exceptionally since he was asked to hold Storm's End through a siege while we fought in the Riverlands."

"Stannis?" Robert asked amusedly, before bellowing out a laugh. "My sour brother as Hand of the King?"

"I could think of no better." Ned told the King seriously. "He held Storm's End and kept Renly alive against all odds. He served you in building an entire fleet in a record time, only to be beaten to Dragonstone by a storm and childbirth. He led a fleet against the Ironborn and defeated them in his first experience at leading a fleet. While Robb and Yohn may have taken King's Landing from Littlefinger, Stannis has led the city in your name. He's a capable man that's far more suited to the role than I."

Robert just watched on as Ned sang Stannis' praises, the words seeming to sink in. "Damnit Ned." He cursed. "I've treated him like shit over the years, haven't I?"

Ned smiled softly. "You've always said that I was the brother you chose, just as you are mine." Ned explained. "But that doesn't mean that I didn't also love Brandon, nor do I not love Benjen. They are my brothers too, as Stannis and Renly are yours. Mend these bridges, Robert, and name Stannis your hand."

* * *

**Dothraki Translation**

**Dothrakaan:** Rider.

**Shori tawakof:** Steel dress.

**Khaleesi zala meme adakha esinakh ajjalan. Ogi loy mawizzi:** The Khaleesi wants to eat something different tonight. Kill some rabbits.

**Ezas loy alegri h'anhaan. Mori allayafi mae, jin alegra:** Find some ducks for me. She likes ducks.

* * *

**A quick reunion between Bran and Robb I know, but Bran and Summer have met finally! It's going to be a story where Bran is away from his Stark heritage for a long time, so to have a piece of it there will be crucial for him. As for Robb, this time he'll actually get to go back North after crossing the Neck.**

**The Ironborn attack the North again… I always thought that Balon would have attacked anyway because he just doesn't care about Theon anymore, so I'm playing into that here a bit although the main reason for their attack is yet to be revealed…**

**Daenerys is pregnant too. That story is following closely to the show for now, but the main reason for that (other than Jon not being able to affect anything major) is yet to be revealed.**

**Finally Ned and Robert have a bit of a heart to heart as Ned actually turns down the Hand of the King role. That's directly Torrhen's impact, without Torrhen Ned would have inevitably accepted.**

**I hope you all enjoyed it. Next time is a massive chapter, as more people remember the Black Wolf Rises timeline…**

**Reviews:**

**Rolling Mist 13: It's one of the things I've enjoyed most about this story to be honest, as I've always enjoyed their relationship, so exploring it for multiple chapters is really fun. Yeah, Royce will be our man in the Vale, considering Robin is in Winterfell and too young to change anything.**

**ABEBOABDU: Jon isn't THE main character by any means, he's one of my POV's because he's the only Stark in Essos and this is a Stark story, not a Jon story. Torrhen is the MAIN character as he's my OC, and Ned and Robb are going to be important too as the Lord and Heir of Winterfell. Jon would probably be on a level with Bran for this story.**

**Shyraii: As shown in this chapter, Alysanne Lefford, the new Lady of the Golden Tooth has been forcibly married the killer of Leo Lefford, Eddard Karstark. He will change his banner now to the Lefford colours, so a yellow sun on a light blue background for the Karstarks of the Golden Tooth.**

**Guest (Bran pairings): He's betrothed to Shireen, so neither of those are happening. I don't even think he'll meet Ygritte until the last 7 chapters of the story, if he meets her at all.**

**Yifto: I'm always two chapters ahead at the moment! So this chapter was only released when I finished writing chapter 28. Thanks for the concern though, I do only write when I'm in the mood for it.**

**ZabuzasGirl: I'm glad!**

**Lord Villarreal of house Grand: Next chapter you will indeed learn somebody else that remembers!**

**Guest (Robert Baratheon): Jon did mention that Littlefinger had been stealing, but he also told Robert that nobody in King's Landing could be trusted, that his three children weren't actually his and to get out of King's Landing ASAP. Robert immediately did that and went North to the only man that he knew he could trust, Ned. The other letters if I remember rightly were just to the Vale Lords asking them to follow Yohn Royce as Robin's regent, maybe you're thinking of the one with multiple seals on it, which is Jon's letter that Robert read sealed by Ned, Renly and Stannis so that Robert knew that it was serious. As for Robert as King, I don't want to spoil anything, but people can change. He's currently getting back in shape and his military mind is as sharp as ever, and if he takes Ned's advice and puts Stannis in as Hand then that's a formidable partnership right there.**


	27. Death Pays for Life

**I'm going to ignore politics that has gripped my country (the UK for those who didn't already know) for all the wrong reasons this last week or two, save to say that sometimes I genuinely wish I lived in Westeros. What I will talk about this time is my frustration when guest accounts ask a question on an old chapter or a story that's finished, as that's the time where I'd PM if there's a response necessary, but obviously with guests that's impossible.**

**As for this story, with this chapter I bring back not one, but TWO characters that remember Torrhen's past life, both characters that lived longer than he did for the first time. I hope you enjoy that.**

**I own nothing but Torrhen and any other OC's. Everyone and everything else you recognise belong to either George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

The Lannisters in Casterly Rock hadn't been enjoying the latest developments of the war, and Tywin was starting to be placed under pressure by certain Lords who were feeling the risks to their homes, namely Lord Sarsfield who had recently learned that Robert Baratheon had taken Sarsfield. Tyrion found himself up in Tywin's solar with wine in his hand staring down at the gathered mass of troops outside of Lannisport in the distance. They had sent 20,000 off the day before under Lord Roland Crakehall to fend off what seemed like Reach forces that had been spotted near Old Oak by Lannister scouts on the border, but they still had roughly 40,000 men ready to march at a moment's notice.

"Has there been any word from Kevan?" Tywin asked the Maester.

Creylen shook his head. "We have had nothing as of yet My Lord. Although he should be nearing Volantis any day now if the winds have been kind."

Tywin pursed his lips but nodded. "That will be all."

Maester Creylen bowed his head and departed the room, leaving Tyrion alone in the room with his brother and Father. "Well." The dwarf said dramatically. "It looks like we're fucked."

"Don't be so sure." Tywin told him coldly. "The Ironborn have entered the fray."

Tyrion turned to his Father with concern on his face. "If we get attacked at sea too…" He began.

"They're not coming here, Tyrion." Jaime added with a smirk. "They're going to the North."

Tyrion blew a loud laugh out of his nose. "You're jesting."

Tywin shook his head. "Balon Greyjoy wants what he's always wanted. A crown that he has taken for himself." The old Lion told him. "All I've done is persuade him that the Crown will not look to take it from him, nor will we take back any lands if he manages to carve out a Kingdom in the North. The man must have accepted."

"He must know that the North won't stand for it." Jaime remarked.

Tywin scoffed. "The North will be dealt with soon enough. Our men are the finest trained in the Seven Kingdoms and we outnumber Robert's forces. As soon as Loras Tyrell is dealt with at Crakehall and you defeat Robert in the field, we will march to King's Landing and take that for Joffrey. All mention of treason and lies will be lost to history, and Lannister's will do as they do best."

"Shit gold?" Tyrion asked. He saw Jaime struggle to hold in a laugh and grinned. Tywin however wasn't too pleased.

"Rule." The Lord of Casterly Rock told him sharply. He turned to Jaime. "The Northmen and Riverlands will soon leave Sarsfield I am sure. Find a spot on the route that you can break them at and lead the rest of our forces."

Jaime bowed his head. "I'll set off at dawn." He promised. "If I may be excused?"

Tywin just nodded, and Jaime left the room. '_No doubt to find Cersei._' Tyrion thought. "It seems as though against all odds you may have beaten the entirety of Westeros." He held out his glass to Tywin in a mock salute. "Involving the Ironborn is impressive, even for one with as many _incredible_ deeds as you have to your name."

"Some battles are won with swords." Tywin explained. "And some with empty promises. Balon Greyjoy can have his crown for now, all that matters is that we keep our heads. Robert was a fool to think he could challenge us."

"That fool still managed to do as no other in history have done and take the Golden Tooth." Tyrion told Tywin.

Tywin scowled, and Tyrion realised that even he had no idea how that happened. "They snuck 10,000 men past the mountains, and I do not like not knowing how they managed that."

Tyrion wanted to laugh at Tywin not knowing something, but the thought worried him as well. As impressive as Tywin's plan was, if Robert Baratheon had a way to walk through Mountains, what else did he have up his oversized sleeves?

* * *

It had been an extremely long journey, but finally the Khalasar of Khal Drogo had arrived at Vaes Dothrak. Jon rode beside Jory, behind the two Targaryen's and Jorah Mormont as they passed the giant horse statues and entered the sprawling city of many cultures.

Jon took a moment to take in the view of the city. The buildings were as basic as could be but built in a number of different styles due to the different backgrounds of the slaves who had built them all. In the centre of the city standing out amongst all other buildings was the circular Temple of the Dosh Khaleen, the building that Daenerys would be expected to live out her days once Khal Drogo died.

Jon hadn't listened to Ser Jorah's introduction of the city, but he heard Viserys' complaints about it well enough. "A pile of mud." He said disgustedly. "Mud and shit and twigs, best these savages can do."

"These are my people now." Daenerys told him firmly. "You shouldn't call them savages."

Viserys scowled at her tone. "I'll call them what I like, because they're my people." He countered childishly. "This is my army. Khal Drogo is marching the wrong way with my army."

The eldest Targaryen rode away quickly after his protests, and he had made Daenerys think. She turned to Ser Jorah after a couple of minutes riding and asked. "If my brother was given an army of Dothraki, could you conquer the Seven Kingdom's?"

"No." Jon said quickly, and Daenerys turned around to face him. Jon kicked his horse so it picked up the pace slightly to ride on her left-hand side. "The Dothraki are good, fierce warriors I'm sure, but they seem more likely to be good raiders of the farmlands than able to take castle upon castle."

"They might not need to if King Robert is fool enough to meet them in open battle." Jorah countered. "And he is most definitely fool enough."

"His advisors are not though." Jon responded. "My Father, for all his faults, wouldn't advise that." Dany looked grim at the thought of Ned Stark, and Jon had to be careful to portray the image of his relationship with Ned that he had been giving off since his arrival in Essos. "And in any case, if Robert fell, his brothers would likely gain the loyalty of the majority of the land."

"Not his sons?" Jorah asked.

Jon just smirked. "He has no sons. The Queen had three bastards and passed them off as his own. When I left Westeros the North was preparing for war."

Dany actually laughed in surprise. "Don't tell Viserys that." She told him jovially. "If he knew the Kingdoms were at war while we were riding to Vaes Dothrak he would likely have a fit."

* * *

Arya had been awoken in the middle of the night by the loud screaming of Wylla Manderly as her brother's wife had started to give birth to the baby. Luckily she was always up early as it was, and it just meant a few extra hours of practice with the bow.

She had gotten better, even without Torrhen being there to guide her. Cregan Glenmore had been a bit helpful, but even he had to depart Winterfell to go back to Rillwater Crossing due to his Father and older brother marching off to war. That had left her training alone on a morning with the bow, only to be discovered by Rickon and Robin Arryn, with Shaggydog close by as always.

"Arya!" Rickon exclaimed as the sun was still rising and the Winterfell sky still had an orange glow to it. "What are you doing?"

Arya rolled her eyes. "I'm shooting a bow, stupid."

"But you're a girl." Robin Arryn said, confused. "I thought girls didn't do that."

Arya turned to her cousin and glared at him. "Maybe not in the Vale, but in the North we do!" She boasted proudly.

"Sansa doesn't." Rickon noted.

Arya turned back to the target and nocked another arrow. "House Mormont trains all their girls to fight." She told them both. "So when the raiders come during wars they can still fight back." She fired the arrow, and it embedded itself a few inches away from the centre. "And Queen Visenya wielded Dark Sister and she fought in the Conquest!"

"She took an Arryn on a dragon!" Robin exclaimed happily. "Maester Luwin told me about that two days ago."

Rickon looked enthralled. "I want to ride a dragon!" He shouted.

"Don't be stupid. Dragons don't exist anymore." Arya told her younger brother. "Why are you here, anyway?"

Rickon looked at the floor grumpily. "Wylla woke me up. She keeps screaming."

"She sounds like Mother." Robin shuddered. "She thought I was asleep and couldn't hear her, but she screamed sometimes at night too."

Arya felt ill at the implication of what she knew her aunt was doing. "Wylla is giving Robb a child, Rickon. She can't help it being painful." She explained.

The boys took no notice though, and soon enough it was time for their lessons. The boys went off with Septon Chayle for the day as Luwin was busy, and Arya was stuck with Sansa and Septa Mordane sewing. Arya wasn't bothered and intentionally made a mess of her stitching, while Sansa had made the baby a blanket with the Stark direwolf proudly on it.

Lunch came and went, and so did supper before Arya's Mother came down to see her and Sansa. She had been crying, but she had a wide smile on her face.

"Mother?" Sansa asked, concerned.

Cat smiled. "Come, both of you. Come and meet your nephew."

Arya bolted up off her seat, ignoring Septa Mordane's outcry of manners as she walked quickly behind her Mother through the corridors and staircases of Winterfell's Great Keep until they reached Robb's room. Catelyn walked in first with Sansa close behind her, but Arya hang back by the doorway, shutting it gently and staying by the edge of the room.

Wylla was lying on the bed, sweat covered her face and her usually pristine blonde hair was in a mess all over the pillows. In her arms she carried a tiny bundle. "Sansa." Wylla said weakly with a smile. "Arya."

"Are you alright Wylla?" Sansa asked cautiously.

Luwin was the one to answer. "She will be weak for a while as her body recovers, but it was a good, clean birth."

Arya watched as Sansa sat daintily on the edge of the bed staring down into the bundle. "He's beautiful." Sansa whispered.

"Come on Arya." Cat whispered to her, gesturing the younger girl over. "Look, he has your eyes." Arya walked slowly and stood by Cat's side, and she could see the baby's face. His eyes were open, staring up at everyone looking down at him with light grey eyes, similar to Arya's own like her Mother had said. Arya also saw a few tufts of reddish-brown hair.

"Do you want to hold him?" Wylla asked Sansa, who nodded eagerly. The Manderly handed the baby over to Sansa who held him carefully, a tear running down her cheeks.

"He's so little." Arya commented.

Wylla choked out a laugh. "He didn't feel little."

"Does he have a name?" Sansa asked.

Wylla looked up at Cat, who just nodded the once. "I thought I'd name him after the King that gifted my family the Wolf's Den." Wylla explained. "My Grandfather told me countless stories of him and the oath we vowed to House Stark, and I felt it right that the first son born to Stark and Manderly be named after him." She looked at Arya then, a smile on her lips. "Sansa, Arya, meet your nephew. Beron Stark."

* * *

Samwell Tarly awoke with a jolt inside a small tent. His initial reaction was to pull the furs covering him tighter to his body to keep out the cold, but soon pushed them to one side as he sat up, his mind racing from everything that had happened. The last thing he remembered was holding his adult son's hand, Lord Jon Tarly of Horn Hill, as the life ebbed out of his old eyes. He had died at the age of 74 before dreaming in his younger body as a man in black feathers, the Three Eyed Raven before Brandon Stark, explained everything to him in some form of vision.

He hadn't believed it after the first vision, seeing his best friend alive again for the first time in almost 30 years as Jon Snow sailed in a ship across the Narrow Sea, but then the scene around Sam had changed into a battle in a forest, just outside a castle on the coast that he had deduced as Crakehall. He saw his Father leading men wielding Heartsbane fall to a stray arrow, and then saw his younger brother look even younger than Sam remembered picking up the sword and fighting on in anger. That was when he realised that the Three Eyed Raven was telling the truth and Sam was in a separate reality.

He groaned as he got to his feet, his stomach rumbling. Frowning, he said to himself. "I'll have to get used to that." He stretched and went to rub his eyes, before realising there was no hair on his upper lip. "Oh no, not this again." He groaned as he touched his old neck beard.

"Sam, are you up?" A voice came from beyond the tent flaps, one that Sam remembered from before. "We'll be arriving at Castle Black within the day if you get a move on now."

"I'm coming, Ser Laswell." He cried out; his voice almost breaking as it did. "Oh dear." He whispered to himself, realising where and when he was. He pulled on his thick cloak and his fur lined boots and sighed to himself. "Right Sam, it's going to be different this time. You don't have Jon or Ghost to protect you." He spoke aloud. "But you killed a White Walker, you killed a Thenn. You survived the Long Night and you survived Daenerys Targaryen screaming at you whilst giving birth. You can do this; you can help the Night's Watch come to realise the coming problem."

"Sam!" Ser Laswell cried out again. "Hurry up!"

"Coming!" He called. He nodded his head once and spoke to himself once more. "You are the shield that guards the realms of men." He said, remembering the vows he had spoken so long ago, back when there was a Night's Watch. With a firm smile, he pushed open the tent flaps and smelled the brisk Northern air once again, determined to do his part.

* * *

With all the drama and excitement around Robb having a son, Catelyn Stark had almost forgotten about the problems facing the North for a brief moment. Of course that was to change when a rider bearing the colours of House Stout arrived at Winterfell bearing news of assaults on Moat Cailin.

When she had heard all of the news Cat allowed Sansa to look after the rider and see that he had a bed and warm food as soon as possible, while together with Ser Rodrik, Cat went back to the dungeon cell that housed Theon Greyjoy. Entering the room together and hearing the door lock behind them, Cat stared at the Ironborn prisoner.

His beard was growing, and his hair looked more dishevelled than the vain man would have liked. He still had his own clothes however but seemed to have discarded the black for a grey shirt. "Lady Stark." Theon greeted unhappily.

Cat wondered how to begin, but knew that above all else, Theon was a friend of Robb's. "Lady Wylla has had the child." She told Theon.

He perked up hearing that. "How is she?" He asked. "How's the babe?"

"Well." Cat admitted. "They are both well. They have a healthy son named Beron."

Theon grinned at the news. "That's excellent. Could you pass on my well wishes, please?"

Cat just nodded the once. "But we have had some grave news from Moat Cailin." She told him.

Theon grimaced. "Whatever my family have done… I'm sorry."

"They have done nothing yet." Cat admitted. "It seems all of our silence has paid off. Moat Cailin is currently resisting your Uncle, Victarion, and the keeps up and down the Saltspear are forcing the Ironborn back too. Rillwater Crossing it seems has captured three entire ships, and the acting Lord, Cregan Glenmore, has placed the heads of all the crew members on spikes on the coast to act as warnings." Arya had told Cat that it was exactly like Theon Stark in the Andal invasion, but the thought gave Cat chills and she really didn't want to compare this Theon standing in front of her to a Stark legend.

To his credit, Theon didn't react to the news other than to say. "They were foolish to attack the North."

"They were." Cat agreed.

"Let me send a raven to my uncle." Theon suggested. "Maybe they thought I would go South with Robb or Lord Stark… maybe they don't know I'm here…"

"No." Cat said sternly.

"My Lady, I want to help the North." Theon insisted. "This has been my home for longer than the Iron Islands. Let me prove that."

Cat just looked at Theon questioningly. "Do you know that Lord Stark spoke of you as we were leaving?" Theon shook his head. "He guessed that with the strength of the North below the Neck that your Father may seek revenge. He told me that while he has treated you as nothing short of a son, that you'll end up feeling grand delusions about Balon Greyjoy's affections for you and would do anything to prove yourself a true Iron Islander. He then commanded me to keep you at Winterfell by any means necessary, and that no letters or words of yours be taken to the Ironborn." She noticed how downbeat Theon looked. "I'm sorry, Theon. I truly am."

"I understand." Theon moped. "I thank you, My Lady, for telling me about Beron."

"No matter what else is happening, you are Robb's friend." Cat told him. "If anything else happens I shall let you know myself."

With that Rodrik banged on the door to let the guards know to unlock it, and Cat left Theon alone in his cell to contemplate his own sense of identity.

* * *

Settling into Vaes Dothrak was fairly easy, Jon thought. The way of life was completely different than he was used to, but the large number of different ethnic groups within the city itself meant that neither he nor Jory felt like an outsider at all. They spent their days training in the small home the Northmen had been given, browsing both the eastern and western markets of the city, and Jon also accompanied Daenerys whenever she summoned him, keeping her company and also teaching her about Westerosi history although being careful not to go into detail about anything after Summerhall.

Jon also dined with Daenerys regularly. Drogo was usually busy with the other Khal's in the city until it was time to retire to his and Daenerys' home, so she regularly tried to invite the Westerosi men to join her. She hadn't bothered with Viserys for the most part, leaving her brother alone to brood and sulk on his own.

That changed around a week into their stay however, Daenerys had confided in Jon that she felt it had been long enough for him to insult the Dothraki in their own home and had tried to bridge the divide by inviting him to eat with them and also gifting him with Dothraki clothing, which she had laid out on one of the cabinets. The eldest Targaryen was late however, and Jon was seriously hoping for Viserys to stay away so he could feed the direwolf at his feet the share of the food.

They were discussing the Dance of the Dragons, and more importantly the visit of Jacaerys Velaryon to Winterfell to encourage Cregan Stark to join the Blacks in the war. "Rumour has it." Jon was saying. "That the Prince left a clutch of dragon eggs in the Winterfell crypts before he left and married the bastard sister of Lord Cregan in the Godswood after he dishonoured her."

"Tales from a drunken dwarf written down years afterwards, not fact." Jorah commented.

Jon nodded. "Aye, we don't know what truly happened. All I know is that Lord Cregan marched south and ended the Dance, and that if there are dragon eggs underneath Winterfell, we've never found them."

"You went searching?" Daenerys asked.

"Aye." Jon nodded again. "At first I looked with Torrhen, my brother. He was always obsessed with the dragons and Cregan Stark was his hero as a child, so he of course believed all the rumours. Then my sister Arya joined, mainly to run away from her lessons."

"She sounds wilful." Daenerys said with a chuckle. "I'd very much like to meet her."

Jon appreciated the sentiment. "I'd like that, I'm sure she'd like you a lot…"

As soon as he finished the sentence the doors flung open and Viserys came barrelling into the room dragging Daenerys' second handmaid, Doreah, by the hair. "You send this whore to give me commands?" He roared, flinging Doreah to the ground. "I should have sent you back her head!"

Doreah was crying on the floor. "Forgive me Khaleesi, I did as you asked."

Daenerys got up from her seat and stood above Doreah. "Hush now, it's alright." She told the girl. "Irri, take her and leave us." She told the other handmaid, before she turned to Jon. "You both should go too; I need to talk with my brother."

Jon didn't like that, but Jorah nodded and stood up. "Come, Jon."

The grizzled old knight said. Jon stood up, looking once more at Daenerys, who just jerked her head to the door. Feeling defeated, Jon walked out of the room with Jorah, making sure to gesture to Ghost to remain where he was. "That won't end well." Jon commented under his breath as they stopped outside the building.

"As much as you may dislike it, he is her brother." Jorah told Jon. "They were together since the Khaleesi's birth. Lingering feelings remain."

Jon didn't like it, but he nodded with a dramatic sigh, leaning against the mud building. "If he gets an army across the Narrow Sea…"

"He won't." Jorah said confidently. "Khal Drogo isn't cowed by his cries, they will only go to war when their Gods favour it, and their Gods won't favour it until the Khalar vezhven, the gathering of all the Khal's."

"When is that?" Jon asked.

"Not for another year, they tend to happen every three or four." Jorah answered. "Vaes Dothrak is a sacred place for the Dothraki, but it isn't one that 40,000 warriors can afford to stay at for a long period of time. No, the Khalasar will be off soon, raiding villages and possibly a small city until Drogo is summoned back for the Kalar Vehzven, and maybe then they will decide to…"

He stopped as a loud slap was heard through the doorway, followed by the snarling of Ghost and a blood curdling scream. Jon barrelled through the door to see Daenerys on the floor unmoving, Ghost standing between her and a prone Viserys with a dripping red muzzle. That brought his attention to Viserys. The Targaryen male was choking, blood pouring fiercely between both of his hands, which were desperately trying to stop the liquid from pouring out of the mess that was once his throat. He was staring up at the ceiling with horrified pale lilac eyes, before he shuddered thrice more and fell still.

"Ghost what have you done?" Jon asked, mortified. The direwolf of course didn't say anything but turned to Daenerys and nudged her chest with his nose. Jorah had entered the tent a moment after Jon, and immediately noticed the sword on the floor.

"You foolish boy." Jorah muttered, before he rushed over to Daenerys, kneeling down as he pulled her onto her back, so her head was in his lap. Her eyes were glazed over as if she was drugged, and Jon could have sworn the usually violet pupils flashed red for a second.

The Khaleesi groaned, but her eyes looked like they were coming into focus. She looked around at her surroundings. "What…" She whispered, as her eyes caught Jon's own. All Jon could do was stand there gormlessly as Jorah helped Daenerys up.

"Careful Khaleesi." Jorah said as they both got to their feet. "You've had a fall."

Daenerys couldn't help but stare at Jon though, a tear forming in her eye. "Jon… is that really you?" Jon just nodded, but he didn't expect Daenerys to rush towards him and throw her hands around his neck. Bewildered, Jon reached his right arm to return the hug, feeling Daenerys' wet cheeks nuzzle into his collar bone. "It worked… Brynden was right." She whispered so quietly that Jon wasn't sure he heard correctly. He looked over at an equally surprised Jorah, not knowing what else that he could do other than hold Daenerys.

* * *

**There we go then, both Samwell Tarly and Daenerys Targaryen remember the Rises timeline! I'll explain why at the end of this outro. This chapter did have a Lannister plan, with Tywin admitting to encouraging the Ironborn as well as sending Jaime out to take the fight to Robert, as well as sending men to combat Loras Tyrell.**

**Robb has a son! The name of the Stark King who gave the Manderly's the land in the North isn't actually known, so that's another bit of lore I've adapted for my own purposes. The part about Stark Manderly marriages not having sons is true though, as far as is currently written. Only two Stark men have married Manderly's, the first having two daughters, Serena and Sansa, while the second was a childless marriage, with Rodwell Stark being succeeded by his brother, aptly named Beron.**

**What I expect to be the main take away from this chapter though is Sam and Daenerys remembering. I needed someone at the Wall who knew about everything that happened in Rises or else the plot would mean I destroy the Watch far too early, so Sam will go up there and attempt to be this worlds version of Jon. He will never be a true warrior, but he's a bit braver now than he was in Rises and his knowledge will prove key to saving Mormont from the wights, to spreading the news of White Walker's. **

**As for Daenerys, like with the Wall I needed somebody with her that knew everything, and earlier in the story I told you all that only one person from each family would remember, meaning that it couldn't be Jon. Daenerys also would have taken her own advice, so for her role in the story it had to be her that remembered.**

**I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think as your thoughts and ideas always help me out. **

**Next time: Daenerys explains everything to Jon, and the fields of Oxcross run red with blood…**

**Reviews:**

**Hear My Fury: Yara is still alive for now.**

**ABEBOABDU: This is a Stark story. Torrhen is my OC but there isn't really a guaranteed 'main character' that everything goes through, I write from the point of view of who fits the scene best. Sometimes one person may have a single scene in a chapter, sometimes they may have 2 or 3, it depends on what's going on in that chapter. As for them fighting for Robert, Ned would always have fought for Robert until he died. Torrhen allied with Dany (without bending the knee mind you) because he hated the Lannisters and had a relationship with her, but Robert is the King by right of conquest and everybody there swore an oath to him personally.**

**Bad Ass Female Fighter: The ripples in the world caused by the magic to send Torrhen back has pretty much caused the Temples of R'hllor to go into seclusion to work out what it means. Melisandre isn't involved in the story.**

**OC's: As of right now, no. If/When I finish those unstarted ones then maybe I'll do some more, but I don't even want to think about that while I've still got a lot unfinished.**

**Ironborn: Nobody on the Iron Islands remembers.**

**Lord Villarreal of house Grand: I needed somebody in Essos to remember and it wasn't going to be another Stark as only one member per family will remember, so for that reason and another one that will come up a lot later in the story Dany is the one to remember.**

**Guest (Conqueror): Except this time with Stannis as one of his main advisors and the knowledge that his lax rulership led to Cersei giving birth to three bastards and passing them off as his own, he knows that he can't fall into the same trap. **

**Lightningscar: Theon not travelling with Robb down south and not being sent to the Iron Islands will be key for his character, although while he himself is now truly loyal to the Starks, they don't believe him. Yeah a United House Baratheon is a fun one, one that I explored in my Baratheon story in a way, although admittedly when I conceived of that idea and the name of the story I didn't plan on killing Renly off so soon, that just came with the writing.**


	28. Kingslayer

**So this is easily my longest chapter so far by well over 1,500 words, and how fitting that it's the first major battle that I write! I'm not counting the taking of King's Landing as that was more a rout aided by the smallfolk, whereas in here we have an actual battle.**

**There are some other things as well however, and so I need to point out here for you all that in terms of who I imagine as Fair Walda Frey, I'm currently picturing actress Laura Marano. **

**This might be my last update on this story before Christmas, so if you celebrate it then I'll say Merry Christmas! If not, then happy holidays!**

**I own nothing but Torrhen and any other OC's in the story. Everyone and everything else is owned by George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

Ser Jorah had almost immediately left both Daenerys and Jon to go and find something to help them move Viserys' body, and Daenerys refused to let go of Jon's hand. The Northerner was extremely confused about what was going on. "Khaleesi… your brother…"

Daenerys looked over at Viserys coldly. "He was a fool to think that wielding a sword in Vaes Dothrak would go well for him." Was all she said. At Jon's perplexing look, Daenerys chuckled. "Don't be so shocked, Jon. I made my peace with Viserys' death long ago."

"Long ago?" Jon took his hand back from her and stepped away. "I'm lost."

Daenerys looked as though she had realised something. "Oh of course… you don't remember." She said quietly.

"Remember what?" Jon asked, getting angry. "Your brother just died by Ghost and you're acting strange. What's going on?"

Daenerys smiled and stepped towards Jon, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ear. "I'm not the Daenerys you know, Jon. Where I'm from, I met you on Dragonstone after I took the island myself. Torrhen believed that you were the key to turning my attention northwards instead of to King's Landing. He was right."

"You know Torrhen?" Jon asked.

"And I know you." She said softly, placing a hand over his heart. "I truly know you, Aegon."

That caused him to freeze. "How do you know that name." He whispered, horrified.

Daenerys laughed. "I was told it by Torrhen many years ago. He also gave me Dark Sister… I don't suppose you have it?"

Jon shook his head. "My Father didn't trust you or Viserys to not take the sword and kill me, he wanted it safe… how do you know all of this?"

"The Three Eyed Raven, who was once the brother of my ancestor, Brynden Rivers, explained it like this as I died." Daenerys began. "I come from one time, and my mind has been brought to another. Most things are the same, but some differ. Like you being in Vaes Dothrak instead of Castle Black, Westeros being at war under King Robert rather than after he died. Little changes that have spread to impact the world for the better."

"So that the White Walker's don't win." Jon surmised.

Daenerys grinned widely. "You're understanding."

"Not really." Jon insisted, turning his back on her. "Is it just you? How is a Khaleesi of the Dothraki meant to impact Westeros?"

"It's not just me." Daenerys admitted. "I don't know everybody that remembers, but I do know that Torrhen does."

"Tor?" Jon swivelled back to face her. "Explain."

Dany sighed sadly. "We were good friends, know that. When he died in my time it hurt us both, but it seems that his consciousness was forced into his younger body a few years ago in this timeline."

Jon remembered the day, the day that he had been hit in the head by Robb in the training yard and had been saying all kinds of nonsense. "He had a concussion…"

"He had his 20-year-old mind in his 11-year-old body." Daenerys corrected. "As I have my 68-year-old mind in my 16-year-old body."

"68?" Jon asked with a smile.

Dany nodded. "I died of old age thankfully. Almost 30 years after my husband died to protect me."

Jon's smile faded as he imagined Drogo taking over Westeros with Dany at his side. "He must have loved you very much."

"You did." Daenerys told him softly, to Jon's surprise.

"Me? But I…"

Dany made him quiet by placing a finger on his lips. "I'll explain everything when I can. I promise. For now though, we must burn Viserys' body and do our part for the war to come."

"How do we do our part?" Jon asked.

"Firstly." Daenerys said as she turned around, her eyes scanning the room until she found the small chest with the three dragon eggs laying inside it. "We make sure that my children hatch, by any means necessary."

* * *

"Keep your shield up!" Came the stern voice of the Red Keep's Master at Arms, Ser Aron Santagar. "If you keep dropping it, some common farmer shall have your head off quicker than you can say 'ouch.' Bran grimaced, the wooden object was heavy and he struggled lifting it all the way up. He looked over at Summer who was lying down to the side of the training area looking around attentively. More determined, Bran forced his arm up as he was ready for another go. He faced the Dornishman once more, almost growling as his arm fought against the strain. "Good, again!" Aron commanded. Bran struck out with his blunted tourney blade, catching Ser Aron's shield. He struck out again at a different spot but hit the shield again. "Harder!" Aron exclaimed, so Bran gave him a heavy whack, still only hitting the shield. He then saw Aron swing his blade and made sure he got his shield up to protect his head. The blunted steel bounced off of the shield, and Bran smiled. "Good! But you are too slow in the next stage. I could hit your legs quickly now." The Dornishman said as he rapped the blade around Bran's shin lightly.

It was still enough to send the young Stark tumbling however, as he hit the ground with a thud. Annoyed, he threw his sword down forcefully and unstrapped his shield. "You wanted the shield up." He grumbled childishly.

Aron smirked at him. "I did, but that was for the first blow when you knew I was going high. In battle you won't know where I'm going, so you need to learn to watch movements, not listen to words. You did well."

"How did I do well?" Bran asked, annoyed. "I'm on the ground."

Aron chuckled. "Brandon, you are but 10 years of age. If you expected to beat me in a duel then I would have you ousted as a madman. Patience, you will learn in time. You are making good progress."

"When my brother was 10 he was a brilliant archer." Bran told the Dornishman.

Aron waved his hand dismissively. "Archery, you stand and move your arms a bit. A true swordsman has ten times the skill of a true archer. The way your mind links with your hand to predict and attack, your feet moving in unison with your arms to get yourself a better position. It is a dance, young Stark. A dance which you are getting better at every single day." That did make Bran feel a little better, he had to admit. It wasn't easy being a younger brother and thankfully he was here in King's Landing learning all of this away from Torrhen, Robb and Jon as they would just make fun of him. Aron helped him to his feet. "Now go and pick up your sword and clean it before you go to meet with Lord Stannis, and don't throw it away again." He said warningly.

Bran nodded, picking up the blade and wiping it clean of mud on his trouser leg before he ran back to the armoury to drop off the blade. "Come on Summer!" He called out then, and the boy and his direwolf raced back into the Red Keep to get changed before his lessons with Stannis Baratheon himself.

He was surprised to see clothes already laid out for him on his bed, a fine leather doublet and a thin fur cloak among them. Shrugging, he put them on anyway, enjoying the feel of the cloak that he hadn't really needed to wear since he had arrived in King's Landing the first time. As he went to leave the room to go to his lessons, he saw a knight with pale blonde hair and deep blue eyes that he recognised as Ser Justin Massey, one of Stannis' men.

"Ser Justin." Bran greeted, feeling Summer brush past him as he spoke.

Justin looked cautiously at the direwolf, his hand just brushing his sword hilt. "Lord Stannis has asked that you join him in the courtyard."

"Am I not having my lessons today?" Bran asked.

"Not today." Justin explained as he turned and led Bran. "We received word from Stokeworth that the Queen should arrive today."

That put a big grin on Bran's face. He hadn't ever seen Queen Cersei other than from afar at the tourney feast and Torrhen had told him that she was cruel, but Robert's new Queen was a mystery to him, and the 10-year-old Northerner was excited.

The courtyard was rammed. Nobles that had followed both Yohn Royce and Stannis Baratheon stood closest to where the new Queen would leave her carriage, while the lesser courtiers and other members of the Red Keep's household were dotted around wherever they were allowed, all nervous and excited to see the Frey Queen.

Bran was placed in the front row as the sole representative of House Stark, beside Yohn Royce the Lord Protector of the Vale, as the carriage entered the Red Keep and came to a halt in front of Stannis. Bran watched as one of the new Queen's bastard kin, evident from the inverse of the Frey colours on his surcoat, helped the Queen down.

"Black Walder Rivers." Somebody whispered from behind Bran. "The old cunt sends his bastard to attend a Queen."

"Quiet." Yohn snapped with a whisper. "Or you'll lose your tongue."

Bran gulped, reminding himself to stay quiet as the new Queen began her descent from the carriage. Another old conversation with Torrhen popped into his head then, from a year or so ago as Torrhen and Arya were telling scary stories to him in the Godswood. Torrhen had spoken on how evil and ugly the Frey's of the Crossing were, but Bran couldn't see any of that in the new Queen. She was beautiful.

'Fair' Walda Frey walked over to Stannis who bowed his head immediately, closely followed by everyone else in attendance. "My Queen." He said.

"Lord Stannis." Fair Walda smiled.

"The Queen's Chambers have been cleaned out and prepared for you to move into immediately." Stannis explained. "You must be tired from the journey."

Walda smiled. "I am, thank you My Lord."

"If you'll follow me, we can discuss the state of the city as we walk." Stannis offered, gesturing to the left, where Bran was. The young Stark's breath hitched as he realised she would walk past him, and he stood up straighter, puffing out his chest subtly, a movement mimicked by Summer beside him. Stannis walked by first, but Walda noticed him and gave him a bright smile, her brown eyes bright in the sunlight. Her retinue followed her, all members of House Frey, Bran surmised.

He sighed happily once the rest of them could move and go about their days. As he was wondering what he was going to do he overheard Yohn Royce talking quietly to one of the other Vale Lords, Lord Redfort. "A dress that tight in her condition. Shameful, what if it's harmed."

"Lord Stannis wasn't amused." Lord Redfort whispered. "But it's clear to see why she did it."

Yohn nodded. "Yes. Our new Queen must want the world to know she is with child so soon after marriage."

* * *

Sarsfield was the last of the Westerland castles to fall under the mountain range that guarded the Westerlands from the east, and once the Northern/Riverland alliance had left the castle of the western archers the terrain grew flatter and more comfortable to ride on, and the distance that the army marched per day grew the closer to Lannisport they got.

The march was a relatively slow one however, as King Robert wanted to both put fear into the people of the west as well as try the Kingslayer's patience. The slow speed also gave the King the chance to have longer to try and get himself fitter. Torrhen had already noticed a bit of a difference, although the Baratheon ruler was still rather round.

They were about 4 days away from Lannisport when camp life grew a little more interesting than just sleeping, eating, training and siege planning. Torrhen had just peppered a target with arrows and was in the process of collecting them to take back to his tent when a familiar set of white robes caught his eye. He waited in place for a moment, staring at this woman with dark hair until she turned around, and Torrhen audibly gasped.

Luckily he was out of earshot, but the sight of Talisa Maegyr made him run away to his Father's tent, the Lord of Winterfell writing out a letter when he was announced and allowed entrance.

"Robb is in White Harbour." Ned explained. "He's heading towards the Moat to ensure the defences are strong as we speak."

"Never mind that." Torrhen said hurriedly. "We have a problem."

Ned's eyes shot up to meet Torrhen's. "The Lannisters?"

"What?" Torrhen asked, confused, before he remembered what they were doing there. "Oh, no. Talisa is here in camp."

"Talisa?" Ned asked.

"Robb's wife from before…" Torrhen said quietly, so it was definitely only Ned that heard.

Ned's mouth formed an 'O' shape. "Oh." He said grimly.

"She has to go." Torrhen said quickly.

Ned didn't agree. "Why? Like the Frey's, she has done nothing here."

"If Robb…" Torrhen began, but his Father cut him off.

"Robb is half a continent away and happily married." Ned insisted. "This woman is a good healer, no?" Torrhen reluctantly nodded. "Then her being here is a bonus for us. She will never meet Robb this time, she will never get him to forsake a vow and she won't cause his death."

Torrhen sighed but nodded. "You're right. I'm worried about nothing."

"We'll keep an eye on her." Ned told his son. "But you need to try to differentiate your worlds, Torrhen. I get it, I truly do, but this chance you've been given… think of it like it's a chance for us all, not just you and Mira."

Torrhen nodded, sitting down in one of the chairs Ned had been given for his tent. "I know I should… I just fought for so long on my own that sometimes I forget I'm back, that you're all here."

"You're not alone anymore." Ned smiled warmly, placing a comforting hand on Torrhen's shoulder. "You have all of us, you have Mira."

Torrhen smiled back. "I just wish I could have saved Lord Arryn; I know how much he meant to you."

Ned's smiled faltered. "Yes, well Jon was an old man and he knew the risks. I just hope I can repay the favour to the Kingslayer one day."

Torrhen shook his head. "Father… Jaime is a good man underneath it all." He said slowly, knowing what the reaction would be.

"He's an oathbreaker, Torrhen. He killed his King."

"And in doing that he saved you." Torrhen said, standing up to make his point more prominent. "You didn't see us try him when I showed you my past, he explained it all before he joined us in the fight. The Mad King was going to set off wildfire in King's Landing to burn the entire city, with you in it. Jaime stopped him."

That shocked Ned into silence. He struggled for words for a moment or two. "He still committed many crimes." Ned said finally.

"He did." Torrhen nodded. "That's undeniable, but separate Jaime the knight from Cersei's lover and you have two completely different people."

Ned was about to argue once more when the tent opened again to reveal a sweating Robert. Ned joined Torrhen on his feet as soon as he realised it was Robert. "Your Grace." The pair of them greeted, bowing their heads.

"It's time, Ned." Robert grinned. "One of our scouts has spotted the Western host coming for us. We'll meet them in two days."

Torrhen gulped. "How many?" He asked, knowing the numbers Tywin had under his disposal.

"Around 30,000, maybe 35." Robert told them.

"Half." Torrhen looked over to Ned. "They're only bringing half?"

Ned nodded. "Smart, bleed us here but still keep a sizable host in reserve." He turned to Robert. "What do you want us to do?"

"Gather your Lords." Robert explained. "We have a battle to plan, one I am determined to win."

* * *

As Robb marched into Moat Cailin from the North for the second time, he thought once again that he would hate to assault the monstrous fortress. The walls alone were enough to put any man off, and Robb imagined the Ironborn barely got a ladder up before they were slain.

There were numerous dead lying in the bogs surrounding the castle, dozens of men in Ironborn armour that had tried and failed to take the fortress. He could sense the nervous feelings of his own men as they rode or walked into the open gates of the fortress to be welcomed by Howland Reed as he dismounted his horse.

"Lord Robb." The Crannogman greeted, his voice as calm as always. "Welcome back to the North."

Robb bowed his head in respect. "It's good to be back, Lord Howland. It seems you've been busy."

Howland smirked quickly. "The Ironborn expected the Moat to be in its old, decrepit state, not rebuilt. Your Father's silence has benefited us all once again."

"Have they tried only the once?" Robb asked, joining Howland as they walked into the castle towards Torrhen's war room.

"Thrice, but we beat them back every time." Howland explained. "After the second attack they left us alone for a few days when we got a rider come from Barrowton, they've been reaving along the Saltspear ever since trying to get us to meet them in the field. Lord Stout took a third of our forces to harass them and they attacked again, to no avail."

Robb grinned. "When Torrhen mentioned the 100 feet walls I thought him paranoid, it seems he was right once again."

"Our defiance has made them angry though." Howland admitted. "It's not just Barrowton that's in peril, Torrhen's Square and Rillwater Crossing have also had raiders. Flint's Finger too. We haven't had enough men to push them back fully, though as of yet nowhere has fallen."

"Well we do now." Robb told him defiantly. "My men will rest for a day before we march out. Half our forces under myself will go and join with Lord Stout, and Lord Bolton will lead his men to support Flint's Finger."

The courtyard of the castle was so big that they were still outside, when a number of workers rushed in towards the blacksmiths as a loud cry went out. Robb walked over to see how he could help as a couple of men rushed out of the building carrying a howling man, the main smith for the castle.

"My eyes!" The man was roaring in pain. "I can't see!"

Before a commotion could begin Robb was there. "Get the Maester, tell him Robb Stark sent you to get him urgently." He told one of the soldiers in the area, before kneeling by the smith as the two men carrying him sat him down. "What happened?"

"Who's there?" The man asked quickly, scared.

"Robb Stark." Robb answered gently. "Tell me what happened."

The man would have cried if his tear ducts were able to produce tears. "One minute I was hammering away at a sword, the next my eyes were burning and now I can't see! What am I going to do milord? I'm needed in there."

Robb sighed, feeling sorry for the smith. "You're going to go to the infirmary and do exactly as Maester Pylos tells you to do. Don't worry about the forge, I'll see to it that it remains running."

"We'll take him milord." One of the men that had carried him nodded.

Robb smiled. "Thank you." He said honestly. The Stark heir waited for a while before Pylos came and started treating the blinded smith, leaving Robb to walk back to Howland who was looking anxious.

"He was our only senior smith." The Crannogman explained.

Robb suddenly had an inspired idea. "We brought somebody with us from King's Landing by request of Lord Stannis… King Robert's bastard who has worked under Tobho Mott himself."

"Is he good?" Howland asked.

Robb turned around to look for some of his men that were settling back into the castle and spotted Gendry looking around in awe, the bulls head helm under his arm. "He made that himself." He called Gendry over and began to explain the situation to him, with Howland interrupting when needed.

"The apprentices in there are all boys, no older than 14." Howland said to finish the story. "They can make arrowheads and straighten swords, but that's about it."

"I hate to spring this on you immediately, and I know I promised you a place at Winterfell, but your talents would be better served with us here." Robb told the large black-haired man.

"You took me with you when no one wanted me milord." Gendry said. "I'm happy to serve you wherever you see fit."

Robb smiled, shaking Gendry's hand firmly. "Come then, let me find you a room in the smithy and introduce you to the others."

* * *

The two days proved to be accurate. Robert had immediately had the camp packed up and the army marched to a strategic field just west of Oxcross, and very quickly had the army set up the way he wanted. Torrhen was to lead the reserve with a mix of archers and cavalry, so he was stood on top of the largest hill staring down at the field below.

He looked down at their own banners, the stag of Baratheon prominently in the centre where Robert would lead the Vanguard with the Frey's and some other minor of the northern Riverland houses. Torrhen's Father held the centre, and Torrhen also saw the banners of House Forrester mixed in with a number of the other Northern houses, while the rest of the Riverlands held each flank.

There was a light breeze going away from them as they looked out at the enemy host across the large field, and Torrhen made sure to factor that in as he gripped his Weirwood bow tightly, happy that the wind was seemingly with them. His arrows were in a basket by his feet. There was movement as Torrhen started to count his arrows up for the 12th time, so his attention was taken by the white flag and three riders coming from the Western forces, and Torrhen noticed the golden hair and white horse belonging to Jaime Lannister. Grimacing, he could only imagine the conversation that was about to take place as he saw King Robert ride forwards with Ser Barristan and Ned. Time seemed to slow as the two groups begun a parley, and it seemed like hours before the two groups split and returned to their forces.

"To arms!" Came the faint call of Robert Baratheon's booming voice. "We break them here!"

"Ready your arrows." Torrhen called out, his northern accent seeming even stronger than normal. "And make them count, down as many of their knights as you can before they clash!" A war horn sounded from their side, and Torrhen watched as the Kingsguard rode out alongside the King and his new Frey family ahead of the rest of the cavalry from either side. The foot soldiers were also sprinting out, following the horses. "NOCK!" Torrhen roared. "DRAW!" He added a moment after that. The Lannister charge was happening at the same time, and Torrhen wanted to time it perfectly. "LOOSE!"

He released his grip on the bowstring and watched as his arrow shot out towards the Lannister advance. He followed his arrow for as long as he could, but soon lost it as the sky was soon filled with thin wooden shafts soaring towards the Lannister men.

The screams began then, as arrows embedded themselves in men, horse and dirt. Torrhen's fired another volley, and then a final one before the knights down below clashed.

It was very quickly chaos reminding Torrhen of the Battle of Winterfell against Ramsay Bolton in the last life, but on a much larger scale. Thousands of mounted knights clattered into one another before they began hacking away at their enemy. Torrhen gave his bow to one of the young bows who had been tasked with collecting the ranged weapons and rushing back to camp when the battle started, and the Stark withdrew the Valyrian Steel sword Winter's Bite. "For the King!" He roared.

"FOR THE KING!" The rest of his men repeated, and Torrhen led the slow reserve march down the hill, looking out for the area that needed reinforcing the most.

* * *

If there was one thing that made King Robert Baratheon feel like himself again, it was clattering a man with his weapon and killing him. He hated that he didn't have his Warhammer, but the weapon was too heavy for his fat frame, so he reverted to the sword and shield on horseback that he had been training with Ser Barristan religiously.

The battle had been raging for a while and Robert had taken his fair share of lives already, with help from all the members of his Kingsguard. Ser Arys, Ser Boros, Ser Preston and Ser Barristan surrounded him, taking half of the fun out of it, Robert thought, but the time where he could force his way through an entire vanguard on his own had long gone.

The lines had mixed too Robert thought, as he took his blade out of a Marbrand soldier's throat and saw a Ryswell banner race past him, a banner that should have been long behind him. He blocked another sword swing and stabbed the offender in the chest before the shout that Robert was aching for came over the noise of battle.

"BARATHEON! COME AND FACE ME!" The cocky voice of Jaime Lannister, the cuckolder, boomed out. Robert saw him in his Lannister armour shining in the sunlight, and the large King growled.

"Kingslayer." He snarled. "Not this time though, not today."

He urged his horse forwards, trampling a Westerling knight who had lost his horse and beheading a man in the purple of House Payne. "Protect your King!" He vaguely heard Ser Barristan roar, but he was too focused on the Lannister he was aiming for.

He was blocked off however by Lord Quenten Banefort. Roaring, Robert swung his sword only to be parried by the mounted Westerlander, and so swung again with strength. Robert's sword bit into the Banefort's shield, and the King pulled his sword back with strength, ripping Lord Banefort's shoulder out of his socket as he lurched with the shield his arm was strapped to, his ankle also snapping loudly in the horse spurs. Lord Banefort howled as he flopped to one side, his two injuries agonisingly painful for but a moment until Robert managed to dislodge his sword from the shield and swiftly ended his pain.

As the King got his bearings once more he saw Ser Jaime drive his sword through one of his Kingsguard's throat, yanking his sword to the side to half decapitate the knight. Robert grew angrier and charged towards the Lannister knight, but not before another member of the Kingsguard died at Jaime's hand.

"Protect the King!" Robert heard the booming voice of Ser Barristan once more, thankful that his Lord Commander wasn't one of those to fall. He was soon face to face with the infamous Kingslayer.

"Surrender yourself, Kingslayer." Robert growled.

Jaime's smirk could be seen through his helm. "Kingslayer, it may finally have a good ring to it." He jested. Jaime then charged forwards at Robert, who began his own charge.

Suddenly a figure barrelled through the air and into the Lannister knight, knocking him firmly off his horse and winding the knight. Robert didn't know who it was but recognised the sigil from Ned's boy's bride. The young man cried out as he swung his blade to try and catch the Kingslayer off guard, but Jaime Lannister was too good and too experienced and parried before he rolled out the way and got back to his feet. Robert whirled around and started charging for Jaime again, swinging for the Kingslayer and connecting with the helmet. He turned his horse once more to see that one of the golden faceguards had been knocked off of its hinge and blood was running down Jaime's cheek, but that didn't stop Jaime from duelling with the Forrester that had knocked him off his horse and plunging the golden hilted sword through the Northman's chest.

Robert roared once more as he charged on horseback, now joined by Ser Arys and Ser Barristan as the three of them mounted a joint charge. Jaime wasn't a famed swordsman for nothing though, dodging all of the blows and cleaving his blade through Robert's horse's leg, sending the King to the ground with a thud.

"SURROUND THE KING!" Barristan roared again, and as Robert regained his senses he saw a number of men in all different armours surrounding him, fighting their hardest to protect him. He pushed his horse away and picked up his sword, throwing away his now dented helmet as he gave himself some air.

He heard numerous shouts from all sorts of men, but as his vision was still shaky he couldn't make out anything in particular until a loud war horn sounded. Confused, Robert got to his feet, and was soon helped up by a couple of pairs of arms. He looked around to see the bleeding face of Ned Stark staring back at him. "Ned…" He gasped.

"Are you alright?" Ned asked, all formalities gone. Robert nodded.

"What's happening?" Robert asked in pain.

Ser Barristan answered. "They are retreating, Your Grace."

"The Kingslayer?" Robert asked.

"Gone." Ned said bitterly. "As he felled you he and Ser Barristan duelled until he was surrounded and taken away by his own men. They'll be back at Casterly Rock before we can march."

Robert grimaced at the news. His vision had returned fully by then and he stared around him. Ser Arys Oakheart and Ser Barristan were with Ned and a Mallister man, Ser Patrek if Robert remembered rightly. He then looked at the men on the floor, a young Karstark and Lord Halys Hornwood were dead on the ground around Robert, as well as a number of Frey's that Robert couldn't name. His eyes narrowing, Robert looked out to the fleeing men of the west. "I want to follow them as soon as is physically possible. Count and prepare the dead, and then we march."

* * *

Torrhen had missed the thick of the fighting, but it had still been a bloody business, with roughly 10,000 of their own forces falling at the Battle of Oxcross, and a similar amount of the Lannister men dying on the fields as well. As dusk fell and pyres were being lit for the dead of all allegiances, it gave the young Stark a moment to reflect and mourn. He was stood by the pyre of Rodrik Forrester, the heir to Ironrath having given his life to protect the King from Jaime Lannister. Other pyres were burning for other Lords and nobles, with Harald Karstark and the brothers Benfred and Brandon Tallhart among the Northern dead.

Torrhen couldn't bring himself to move. He had long felt guilty over the decimation of House Forrester before he died before, and now he was here standing at another Forrester's pyre, Rodrik dead because Torrhen was responsible for starting a war. He didn't see Ned standing beside him until the elder Stark spoke. "It's not your fault."

"I told you the truth. We went to war because I told people the truth about me." Torrhen said bitterly. "Now Mira has lost two brothers."

"Rodrik made his choice." Ned said gently. "He honoured himself by sacrificing himself for his King, he did himself and his family proud."

"He's still dead." Torrhen muttered.

"Aye, he is." Ned sighed. "But he wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

Torrhen sighed. "How am I going to tell Mira?"

Ned looked pained. "Firstly we make sure Rodrik didn't die in vain. We still have a long road ahead of us, Torrhen. Lannisport and Casterly Rock lie ahead. Keep Rodrik in your heart and avenge him, if that drives you."

Torrhen nodded, watching the flames rise higher in the darkening sky. '_I'll protect the rest of them, Rodrik. I swear._' He vowed. '_No other Forrester will die if I can help it._'

* * *

Tyrion honestly couldn't remember the last time he had seen his brother this angry. Jaime had arrived back at the Rock with a nasty new scar below his left eye absolutely furious that the other commanders in the battle at Oxcross had sounded the retreat. Tywin had very quickly pulled him up to his solar out of earshot of the castle.

"I had him! I had Robert in my sights!" Jaime ranted. "A few more moments and I'd have had his head in my grasp and the Starks running for the hills!"

"Enough!" Tywin roared, shutting Jaime up. "That doesn't matter now."

"Doesn't matter?" Jaime asked incredulously. "How doesn't it matter? I could have ended this war if I hadn't have been dragged away from the battlefield like a petulant child."

"It doesn't matter because we need as many men in Lannisport and Casterly Rock as we can get." Tywin said firmly. "Our scouts were wrong. Loras Tyrell wasn't at Crakehall."

That intrigued Tyrion. "Then who was?" He asked.

"Randyll Tarly." Tywin said bitterly. "Who was fortunately slain, although one of the Hightower sons took up the command and managed to take Crakehall, Lord Roland has been captured. They are on their way here as we speak. As is Loras Tyrell with a different army, who somehow silenced the Gold Road and are also on their way here."

Tyrion felt the dread in the room. "Two armies from the Reach, and King Robert's own army all converging on us here…" He trailed off. "We can't fight that."

"We don't need to fight. Casterly Rock has never fallen, and it never shall." Tywin said firmly. "Once King's Landing falls to Kevan then these armies will rush back to take back the Capital, and we shall ride out and strike. The Greyjoy's will harass the North, and we shall be victorious yet." Tyrion could see that the confidence in Tywin's voice didn't match his eyes but kept quiet as he noticed that Jaime had gained courage from that. "So quit your irate shouting, Jaime, and ensure that you are ready for a long siege. They shall never take the Rock, and we must remain strong."

Jaime nodded, and Tyrion noticed that that was a dismissal and joined his brother on the way down the many stairs. "It's funny, you were always the pretty one and I was the clever one." Tyrion noted. "Now it seems that I'm both the pretty and clever Lannister."

"My face might be scarred, but my sword arm is as good as ever." Jaime said with a grin. "Don't tempt me to use it, brother."

"Has our sister seen your dashing looks?" Tyrion asked.

Jaime's grin faded. "I've not seen her yet."

Tyrion felt bad for his brother. "She'll accept it. She has to." He said quietly.

Jaime appreciated that and decided to pick Tyrion up and carry the dwarf on Jaime's back for the rest of the descent, until Jaime placed him down by the library. "Enjoy your books, Tyrion." He said earnestly. "Read them all before we have to start burning them for our fires."

Tyrion then watched as Jaime turned his back to him and walked away, leaving Tyrion alone outside the library doors. The youngest of Lord Tywin's children grimaced as he thought on what was to come. His thoughts then turned to his sister's youngest children, and the thought of them going through an unwinnable siege turned his stomach. Knowing he couldn't stand by to put those innocent children through such horrors, he made a promise to himself to get them out before the armies converged on them.

* * *

**Lots to digest here then, and what a pleasure it was writing it! First off Dany explains what she can to Jon. I've basically written a whole post-Rises timeline for them up until Dany's death, and some little bits of that may come out eventually as we go further through Dany's show arc.**

**King Robert has a child on the way then… his decision to marry a Frey has paid off, although Black Walder Rivers could be an issue if you know your book lore… for those that don't he is a mix of two different Walder's, the trueborn Black Walder who was rumoured to have slept with Fair Walda, and Walder Rivers.**

**Gendry will be the full-time smith at Moat Cailin now.**

**Finally… the battle. RIP to 12 different named characters just in that battle, although some I couldn't fit in properly judging by either the POV or the conversations… those 12 are as follows: Quenten Banefort, Boros Blount, Preston Greenfield, Rodrik Forrester, Halys Hornwood, Harald Karstark, Benfred Tallhart, Brandon Tallhart, Hoster Blackwood, Raymun Darry, Ronald Vance of Atranta and Lord Lucius Vypren.**

**I hope you all enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought.**

**Next time: Robb clashes with the Ironborn, and King's Landing gets unexpected visitors…**

**Reviews:**

**Freakdogsflare: That's the benefit of Ned silencing the entire region, nobody expected Moat Cailin to be as strong as it is, even with it still being rebuilt.**

**Lord Villarreal of House Grand: Yes, unless something drastic changes my mind there will only one more to remember that won't be revealed until chapter 42.**

**C.E.W: She is pregnant with Rhaego, but she knows what she has to do, and while that will be difficult for her she knows that the fate of the world is far more important.**

**Hear My Fury: Well Randyll Tarly died last chapter so that can't happen, although the man to take over that force is Baelor Hightower, and he isn't a fool. As for Loras, his job is relatively easy. Go down the Gold Road and take castles. His force being one that went under the radar benefits him massively. As for Robert, I hope I showed well enough that the Baratheon King is still a force to be reckoned with, but he is still no true match for Jaime.**

**Bennard Stark: Cregan will remain in the Risesverse, but I have planned all the Stark and Tully children born up until the end of the story.**

**ABEBOABDU: He would only fight for Dany if she was the only ruler that he believed in and he was in charge. He defers to Ned now, and Ned would never betray Robert. Torrhen also didn't sacrifice himself for Dany and Jon, he sacrificed himself to save mankind. He only wanted Jon and Dany on the throne as they would agree to keep the North independent and wouldn't harm his son as Cersei would. Torrhen also does want to keep his oaths, but he isn't an entirely honourable man like Ned is, he will fight dirty if he has to but only if he has to, but his oaths that he swears will mean a lot to him.**

**Bad Ass Female Fighter: While I can sort of see why, as Aemon was largely forgotten in the lore and they never meet at all in the book. In my worlds though she knew about him through Jon, and they named their firstborn son Aemon in the Risesverse.**

**Rolling Mist 13: Thank you for saying that! Arya is one of my favourites (of course she is, I'm obsessed with the actress after all) so she's a character I try to get just right. I agree about Theon, but over caution is one of the knock-on effects of Torrhen telling his story. **

**Player42: That's very Lannister thinking… They've got to get to each of the islands before any of that happens.**

**sarah-rose76646: Rhaego is still kicking in her womb at the moment. As for Drogo, she knows him better than anyone and still cares for him, so she isn't going to do anything to risk hers or Jon's life.**

**Lightningscar: The whole premise of the people coming back is to aid with the final battle against the White Walker's, they're not just random and certainly not intended to cause problems to the living. Torrhen is obvious, he's my OC. Mira is there for him, to motivate him and to give him something important to fight for rather than have him moping about losing his son in the last time, so he now has hope for the future with the girl he's loved since he was 10. Olenna is there to get the Reach onside, so she came back to stop Highgarden joining with the Lannisters and prolong a necessary war by years. Sam came back to prepare the Night's Watch, and Dany is back because otherwise she would try and do everything she did in canon. The next and final person will also be similar, somebody that is in a place to save additional lives and ensure that the living have a big chance. Jon is learning though, he managed to keep his true identity hidden for months until Dany herself outed him, once he understands what has to happen he'll do what is needed. He won't remember though I promise you that. I'm sticking to my 'only one person per family' rule, and both House Stark and Targaryen now have a person who remembers.**


	29. The Siege of Lannisport

**Hello! I hope everybody had a wonderful holiday season and a fantastic New Year. I certainly did, although that meant no writing on my part so this is the last of my prewritten chapters… It has been a while however, so I felt like I should probably upload this one even if I have been focusing on something very different, which if you'll check my profile you'll find out what that is...**

**The King's Landing Godswood is taken from 3x04, where Margaery and Sansa talk.**

**As always I own nothing but Torrhen and any other OC's. Everything else belongs to George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

Casterly Rock was unusually quiet the next morning, but not for long. Even from Tywin's chambers up in the top levels of the castle he could hear the scream of his daughter before he had even had a chance to eat his breakfast.

Naturally, it wasn't too long before both she and Jaime came charging into the room, Cersei with a look of rage fit for a Baratheon on her face. "He's taken them!" She screamed.

"Quiet down!" Tywin exclaimed firmly as he hid the letter he had just received. "Who's taken them?"

"The Imp!" Cersei snarled. "He's taken Myrcella and Tommen!"

"They're all missing." Jaime explained more calmly, his ugly scar staring right at Tywin. "Tommen's handmaiden came to Cersei just now to explain that she was gone, and Myrcella's did the same not a minute later."

Tywin clenched his teeth together in annoyance. "And Tyrion did this, how?"

"Because he's not here either." Jaime said quickly before Cersei could get a word in. "We've checked his chambers, the library, the kitchens… he's not in the castle."

Tywin stood up out of his seat, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "He's likely off whoring somewhere." He dismissed. "And the children are likely playing some game."

"They're not here." Cersei snarled. "He took them!"

"Joffrey?" Tywin asked.

Jaime shook his head. "Safe in his rooms. I've already posted 5 men on his door, he is safe."

"Very well." Tywin nodded. "I'll have the castle searched."

Cersei looked incredulous. "That's it?"

"Until it's proven that they aren't in the castle, I'm not going to let any of my men wander off to Lannisport when there's a siege coming." Tywin glowered at his daughter. "I will find them."

Cersei scoffed and turned to Jaime, but saw she was getting no help from her twin and threw her arms up in exasperation. "Fine!" She cried. "But if anything happens to them, my wrath will not be contained."

She turned and stormed out dramatically, slamming the door as she went. Jaime sighed loudly. "We should send a party to Lannisport, just to be on the safe side."

"Evidently." Tywin said drolly. "But your sister would spread the word and I cannot have the men thinking that abandoning the Rock is an option. Choose four trustworthy men and tell them to search the brothels for your brother. If he's not there either, then Cersei's claims may be true."

"How can they be? Tyrion would never…" Jaime began.

"You heard him yesterday." Tywin said, more bitterly than he had intended. "He said we cannot win. We cannot escape the possibility that he has abandoned us to save his own skin."

"He wouldn't." Jaime said firmly. "He's loyal to us."

"He's loyal to you." Tywin corrected. "Nothing that boy could do to betray us is a surprise to me."

Jaime was about to argue, but at that moment the bells of the castle began ringing. Confused, Jaime rushed over to one of the windows and opened the shutters. From Tywin's chambers you had an excellent view of the plains surrounding both Casterly Rock and Lannisport, as well as the three roads leading into the city, the River Road, the Gold Road and the Ocean Road. Jaime looked around, until he spotted something in the distance and gulped. "Warrior save us…" He whispered.

Tywin would have scoffed at the remark had he not seen it too. "Prepare the garrison for siege." He ordered. "We will soon be surrounded."

* * *

Rillwater Crossing was a small farm town separated by the Saltspear river, and the stone bridges joining the eastern part of the town to the western part converged on an island, where the castle of Glenmore Keep was located, still flying the white bow and arrow on a brown field of House Glenmore. It was the main defence of the Saltspear, and if it fell it would mean that the North as far inland as Torrhen's Square could fall.

Robb was pleased to see the Glenmore banners flying high as he and his men rode towards the town, but very quickly he saw the longboats of the Ironborn landing near the spiked heads of past invaders. Rushing into action, he withdrew his sword and wheeled his horse around to face his goodfather, Ser Wylis Manderly. "Have your men ensure the protection of the smallfolk." He called out, before turning to Lord Stout, who had joined him from Barrowton. "Take your men and ride for the coast. Take their larger ships or burn them, I don't care. Just ensure that they can't leave."

"Yes Lord Stark." Lord Stout bowed his head. "MEN OF THE BARROWS! WITH ME!" He cried, before riding southwards with his thousand or so men.

"DRIVE THE IRONBORN BACK INTO THE SEA!" Robb cried out for the rest of his men. "FOR WINTERFELL!"

"WINTERFELL!" The rest of Robb's mounted force screamed out in unison, and Robb led the charge towards Rillwater Crossing with Grey Wind at his side, the Stark's sword pointed towards the town. They raced past the outer farms and down through the main street of the eastern settlement, and quickly Robb hit the first Ironborn reaver, cutting him open as he raced past on his horse.

To their credit, even the villagers were fighting back with bows, as the sigil of House Glenmore proved to clearly be the sigil of the entire town. Arrows flew out of the top stories of the houses and inn on in the town striking the Ironborn as Robb and his men battered them from the street. It wasn't long before Robb was on the riverbed racing down towards the longboats just pulling in dropping more men off, and Robb saw the man leading the attack, the one man in steel armour and a kraken helm who must have been Victarion Greyjoy, a huge axe in his hands as he stepped on the land.

Robb narrowed his eyes in concentration as he rode over with speed towards the Greyjoy man, cutting down numerous Ironborn in the process. He was soon bearing down on Victarion, who dodged Robb's thrust of the sword and swung his great axe, taking off the back legs of Robb's horse.

Robb jumped away from his mount, careful to roll properly before he came to a stop and forced himself onto his feet. He grimaced at the slight pain in his side as he readied himself sword in hand for the advance of Victarion. The Ironborn noble swung his axe again, and Robb ducked out the way slashing out with his blade as he did only to get parried by the shaft of the axe. He ducked the massive axe once more, this time though his own swing caught Victarion on the side, but it didn't go through the grey mail that Victarion was wearing. The axe came again, and Robb parried it to his left with all his might, watching as the axe head buried itself in the dirt. Feeling his chance, Robb slashed with a backhanded swing, only for Victarion to block the sword coming for his neck with his left wrist guard, and the Ironborn let go of the axe to punch Robb fiercely in the face.

The Stark went sprawling to the ground, his jaw in agony and blood dripping down his broken nose. He crawled away, only to be yanked back by both of Victarion's hands on his leg. "You're not going anywhere." Victarion snarled.

As the Ironborn let go Robb scampered away as fast as he could on his back, watching terrified as Victarion forced the axe out of the ground and walked menacingly towards him. One of the Northerner's wearing Manderly armour raced to his aid, but Victarion split him in two with his axe without breaking eye contact. A villager also tried to help Robb, but her head soon was separated from her body too. Victarion soon loomed over Robb, his hands flexing on the axe handle. "I'll offer your bones to the Drowned God." He growled, lifting the axe above his head.

Robb shut his eyes waiting for the blow to come but it never did. The twang of a bowstring was heard, followed by a grunt from Victarion. Robb opened his eyes to see an arrow sticking out of the Ironborn's leg, before a second later a grey blur shot past him, and Grey Wind's jaw clamped around Victarion's arm.

The Ironborn screamed, dropping his axe to the ground with a thud as he tried to shake the direwolf off of his arm, but Grey Wind wasn't budging. His other hand now free, Victarion tried to punch the wolf off, but to no avail as three arrows quickly found their way into Victarion's back. Robb forced himself up and grabbed his sword off the ground, blood pouring out of his nose. "Not today, Greyjoy." He responded over Victarion's screams.. "Your God will have to wait for my bones."

Robb ripped the helm off of Victarion and smashed his sword pommel down against Victarion's skull, causing him to drop to his knees and the floor unconscious instantaneously. Groaning, he dropped the kraken helm and brought his arm up to his nose, trying to stop the flow of blood. His eyesight was just slightly blurry, but he managed to make out the young Cregan Glenmore, the acting Lord of Rillwater Crossing now that his brother and Father were down with the rest of the Northern forces in the Westerlands, coming towards him.

"Lord Robb, are you alright?" Cregan asked.

Robb nodded. "I'll be fine." He said, although his words were slightly slurred as speaking pained him. "Your town?"

"We've pushed them back once more." Cregan said. "We should kill this one though."

Cregan kicked the prone Victarion in the ribs, but Robb shook his head. "He's Victarion Greyjoy, the best commander Balon has. We'll take him back to Winterfell and keep him prisoner." The Stark looked around and noticed that the Ironborn that weren't already dead were being rounded up. "Do what you want with the rest of them though."

Cregan Glenmore grinned. "Aye, My Lord." The boy turned to his men. "See that Robb is well looked after and has a good room to rest in."

And Robb found himself being dragged away by two of the Elite Guard of Rillwater Crossing, and he figured he must have blacked out, because the next thing he knew he was waking up in a comfy bed with a pounding headache.

He tried to sit himself up, although almost immediately he was set upon by the Maester. "Easy, My Lord." The Maester said, moving the pillows so that Robb could sit up comfortably. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been punched in the face by a giant." Robb groaned. "What happened?"

"You passed out on the way into the castle." The Maester replied. "I immediately had you taken out of your armour and into something more comfortable before I gave you some poppy wine to ease the pain and set about fixing your injuries. You have a broken nose and some blackness around the eye, but other than that you are healthy."

Robb was grateful. "Thank you, Maester…"

"Luthor." Maester Luthor answered.

"Well, look who's finally awake." A voice came from the doorway. Robb turned his head gingerly to see Cregan Glenmore dressed in the Elite Guard armour of his House. "I'm glad to see you well, Lord Stark."

"As am I." Robb admitted. "What happened?"

Cregan sat down in one of the chairs in the room. "We've been throwing back raiding parties on and off for a few weeks now, but this one was the largest by far led by Victarion Greyjoy of all people. We were about to close our gates and hope for the best when you and your men turned up. Once you engaged them I sent out my archers to join you, and I found you about to be gutted by Victarion himself so shot him, and you know the rest until you came here."

Robb nodded. "Our losses?"

"A dozen." Cregan told him. "You truly caught them by surprise, and your horse trampled through their lines. We have more good news too."

"Aye?" Robb asked.

Cregan grinned. "Lord Stout captured all 7 ships that was still in the mouth of the Saltspear, including the _Iron Victory_."

Robb let out a laugh there. "That will send a message."

"He's back here now, waiting for orders." Cregan told him.

Robb thought for a moment, although the pain in his head was growing. "Tell Lord Stout to follow Ser Wylis and continue pushing the Ironborn back from our shores. The Stoney Shore and Deepwood Motte likely need some aid. I'm going back to Winterfell though with our prisoner."

Cregan nodded. "Of course My Lord, but you can rest for as long as you need here at Glenmore Keep."

Robb nodded. "Thank you, but I'll only stay until I'm fit to ride. Victarion needs to be away from the water and in the dungeons of Winterfell before I'll feel truly comfortable."

"Speaking of Winterfell." Cregan grinned. "You've been on campaign for so long you may not have heard. Congratulations My Lord, you have a son."

Robb couldn't help his grin as he processed the news. "A son? Wylla's had the babe?"

"A boy named Beron." Cregan nodded.

Robb couldn't get the grin off of his face for the longest time after that, and he soon fell back to sleep thinking of his newborn son, longing to meet him.

* * *

The march from Oxcross to Lannisport took double the time it should have as the Northmen and Rivermen nursed their injuries, but they arrived to see an already fully functioning siege in place, with golden rose banners fluttering in the breeze alongside a number of other Reach houses. The set up reminded Torrhen of Bitterbridge a bit, but there were roughly half the men that had been under Renly when the Baratheon had stupidly claimed Kingship.

The younger Stark rode closely behind his Father at the front of the lines as they rode into camp escorted by a couple of Tyrell guards, and they were led to a clearing on the edge of the siege camp where all of the Reacher Lords and nobles had gathered to greet their King. As Torrhen dismounted he recognised a number of banners, with Houses Tyrell, Hightower, Tarly, Florent, Oakheart and Ambrose among the more notable in the gathering.

Torrhen dismounted at the same time as King Robert did, and watched on as the Reachmen all bent their knee towards their King. The Stark boy waited for Balerion to come to his side before he stood next to his Father and Uncle Edmure and continued watching when Robert bid everyone to rise.

"Ser Loras." Robert greeted. "You have my thanks for your efforts in the South."

Loras bowed his head. "We were at your service, Your Grace. The Lannister's have spat upon the Kingdom's far too often, it was our duty to aid you in this war."

"I hear you had struck an agreement with my brothers." Robert said. That surprised Torrhen as he hadn't heard anything. "I hope my apologies came back with you with Ser Bryan."

Loras nodded. "We had heard we were too late, but it is no matter. House Tyrell is loyal to House Baratheon, and Margaery will be happy with her new betrothed I am sure."

"New betrothed?" Torrhen whispered to his Father. Ned just shrugged.

Robert then moved to greet some of the Reach Lords, having small conversations with each of them. His final call was in front of the young man of an age with Torrhen beneath the Tarly banner. "You are?"

"Lord Dickon Tarly, Your Grace. Of Horn Hill." Dickon explained.

"Where is Lord Randyll?" Robert asked.

Dickon's eyes went to the ground. "Dead, slain at Crakehall." He said mournfully. "I wield Heartsbane now, Your Grace."

Torrhen sucked in a breath in shock, along with a number of the men beside him. He couldn't see Robert's face, but guessed it was sorrowful judging by the large hand that went to the Tarly boy's shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that. Randyll Tarly was the one man to hand me a defeat, he will be missed."

"Thank you, Your Grace." Dickon said.

Robert then went back to Loras. "What is the state of the siege?" He asked.

Baelor Hightower coughed and stepped forwards. "Your Grace, we have Lannisport and the roads to Casterly Rock surrounded by men, and the Redwyne Fleet is blockading the bay so no ships can get to either city or castle. They are running on their own stores."

"Good." Robert nodded happily. "And what are you doing to break their spirits other than sitting here? I won the rebellion thanks to the lax efforts at Storm's End, I won't give them a chance to do the same to me."

"Trebuchets are being built." Loras mentioned. "But we arrived only a few days before you, Your Grace."

Robert nodded his understanding. "Hasten the work on the siege engines and start firing on the city. Once that falls to us, we can focus our efforts on the Rock with city walls at our backs in case of any treachery. And send any spare Maesters you have, we have a lot of wounded with us from Oxcross."

"Your Grace." The Lords bowed their heads before being dismissed, and Robert turned back to Ned. "I shouldn't be grateful that Mace Tyrell is dead, but if he were here we'd be days behind already."

"If he were here then they would have likely joined the Lannister's by marrying Margaery to Joffrey." Ned muttered, and Robert snorted out a laugh.

"Perhaps you're right." The jolly King chuckled. "Well, we'll set up camp and add our strength to theirs. With any luck the Lannisport Lannister's will open their gates to us quickly."

Torrhen didn't think that would happen any time soon. He stared up at the high, red stoned walls and noted how strong the defence from such a structure would be, not even wanting to think about how difficult taking Casterly Rock in the distance would prove to be. "Come, Balerion." The Stark muttered, turning away from the walls to find his tent and to help set it up properly, as it would likely be standing for a long time.

* * *

Winterfell was a sight for sore eyes. The ride up from Rillwater Crossing had been a blissfully quick one with Robb's party containing only half a dozen men, including their prisoner. Victarion Greyjoy had been chained to a wagon kindly provided by Cregan Glenmore and gagged so he couldn't make any noise, which made life a lot easier for Robb.

They got to the Wintertown as the sun was beginning to set, and Robb passed through the gates of Winterfell just as the sky was darkening, although the faces that were there to greet him made him almost weep with joy. He had barely dismounted his horse by the time that Rickon had flung himself at Robb, throwing his little arms around Robb's neck.

"I've missed you too, brother." Robb said softly, hugging the young Stark back. He placed Rickon down on the ground and walked over to hug his mother and three sisters quickly, noticing Grey Wind racing away to the Godswood with the direwolf's brother and sisters, before Robb was stood in front of his wife.

"Lord Robb." She curtseyed quickly, not disturbing the bundle of furs in her arms.

"My Lady." Robb greeted with a smile. "Is this…?"

Wylla smiled back at him. "Your son, Beron Stark."

She handed him the bundle of furs and Robb saw his boy for the very first time. He had a thin mop of Robb's hair colour, and Beron's eyes were open wide taking it all in. Robb felt himself welling up as he shifted himself so he was holding the baby in one arm, the other gloved hand coming up to stroke the child's chubby cheek. "Hello." Robb whispered.

"We've had a meal ordered for your chambers." Cat told him. "We should get the children out of this cold."

Robb noticed his youngest sister, Sara, was squirming in Cat's arms and nodded. "Aye." He turned to one of the Stark men that had travelled with him. "See that Greyjoy is put in a cell."

"Is that Victarion?" Arya whispered as the large Ironborn was dragged away. "He doesn't look that scary."

Robb chuckled as he followed his family inside the castle. "You wouldn't say that if you saw him in battle, his axe is bigger than me."

"You fought him?" Wylla asked, worried.

Robb didn't want to worry them but couldn't lie either. "Aye, and he's a tough old squid. But I am here, and he is my prisoner. We don't need to worry about the Ironborn anymore."

While he was feeling the lure of his warm bed and wife, Robb found himself recounting tales of his battles and adventures to an enthralled Arya, Rickon and Robin Arryn as he ate his meals. Even Sansa and Cat sat in listening, though for the latter the excitement was completely drowned out by worry and fear. It was late into the night by the time that Cat had ushered the younger children out of Robb's room and left him alone with his wife and child.

"You've been missed." Wylla admitted as she began to brush out her hair to ready herself for bed while Robb was placing Beron in the cot in the corner of his room, having to dodge a snoozing Grey Wind on the floor. "All of you."

Robb smiled down at the sleeping baby before he turned to his wife. She was sat at a desk looking into a mirror as she brushed, and so Robb moved to stand behind her and leant down so his face was in the crook of her neck. He kissed the exposed skin, causing her to murmur in happiness. "And I've missed you." He breathed against her.

"Robb." She said with a happy sigh. "Maester Luwin has said that it's too soon for that."

Robb shook his head. "I don't care, I've just missed my wife." He whispered into her ear. "Come to bed."

Wylla scoffed, putting the brush down on the desk and stood up, kissing him softly on the lips. "Are you staying at Winterfell now?" She asked him afterwards.

Robb nodded, standing upright once more and loosening his shirt. Wylla stopped him and began to do it herself. "Aye, Maester Luthor of Rillwater Crossing suggested I take it easy for a while after my battle with Greyjoy, and with the Reach joining us in the West I'm no longer needed. We will root the Ironborn out of the North easy enough, and then we will have peace for a time."

Wylla lifted Robb's shirt over his head, exposing his bare torso before her. She traced a scar on his chest. "I like the sound of peace." She whispered.

Robb kissed her once more, carefully picking her up and placing her in the bed underneath the covers. With one harm under her neck and the other holding her hand between her breasts, Robb felt like he could drift off to sleep in comfort for the first time since he left Winterfell.

* * *

Bran had settled into a routine relatively quickly in King's Landing. His mornings were spent by ensuring Stannis had his meals on time and fresh clothes to get into before the young Stark went to train while the Small Council held its meetings. Then after his midday meal Bran had a few hours with his mentor learning about ruling and taking extensive history lessons about House Baratheon, Dragonstone and the Stormlands to prepare himself for his future role as the Lord of Dragonstone and the husband of Shireen. Finally he had some time to himself, which he often spent in the Godswood of the Red Keep with Summer. Bran didn't like it anywhere near as much as he did the Winterfell Godswood, although at least here they actually had a Heart Tree unlike Dragonstone.

He was sat with his back to the rock where those that followed the Old Gods in the castle knelt and prayed towards the great oak covered in smokeberry vines that the first Targaryen King's had decided could replace a Weirwood watching as Summer was propped up on her hind legs leaning against the low stone wall facing out to Blackwater Bay. The direwolf's ears were up and he was moving his head from side to side quickly, as if he was searching for something.

"What is it, Summer?" Bran asked. The direwolf turned his neck to quickly look at Bran, before looking back out to the water. Bran just huffed. "Fine, ignore me then."

That was the only problem here in King's Landing for Bran. He loved the city and learning from someone as smart as Stannis Baratheon, but there were very few children his age about. It would be better if Shireen was here, he thought. They had gotten on really well on Dragonstone and Bran thought of her as a friend. Sighing, Bran stood himself up and stretched his legs. "Come on, Summer."

The direwolf pushed himself backwards and onto all four legs as Bran walked slowly back towards the Red Keep, although he didn't even get halfway down the stone steps when the mournful sound of bells ringing came from the direction of the Sept of Baelor.

Bran didn't understand, but his lessons from Stannis had taught him a little bit of what the bells meant, and the slow thunderous booming noise that he heard wasn't one of the good situations. Without thinking, he ran back towards the Red Keep at full pelt to see soldiers everywhere picking up weapons and leaving the castle in an orderly manner to go towards the city. He saw Lord Redfort and a number of Valemen among them, and the Vale Lord noticed Bran and Summer and gestured them over.

"Lord Stannis is in the Throne Room, lad." Lord Horton explained. "Go quickly."

Bran nodded and went as directed. The Throne room was packed with both soldiers and noble women all rushing about. He saw Stannis talking to the Queen and walked slowly over to them, not wanting to interrupt.

"Get to Maegor's Holdfast and lower the portcullis." Stannis was saying. "You will have Ser Mandon with you at all times. Do as he says."

Fair Walda Frey nodded. "Of course, Lord Stannis." She turned to her handmaids and other noble women. "Come, ladies. Let us leave all these brave men to defend us."

With that she departed, and Bran walked over to the balding Baratheon. "My Lord." He announced himself.

"Ah good, you're here." Stannis noted gruffly. "Go and put your armour on, Brandon. Urgently."

"What's happening?" Bran asked.

"We received reports earlier today of an unknown fleet sailing past Sharp Point." Stannis explained. "It seems that they are here earlier than we had planned for. King's Landing will soon be under attack, so put your armour on and attend me as my squire." Bran nodded, gulping. Stannis noticed the boys fear. "Don't worry." He said, about as caringly as Stannis could muster. "You won't be in any thick fighting."

"Who is it?" Bran asked.

Stannis grimaced. "Not even Varys knows, if he is to be believed." The Baratheon said, letting more slip than he likely would have under normal circumstances. "Go, be back here as quick as you can."

Bran nodded and sprinted away to his room. He quickly got a small version of his family's armour on and tightened, as well as the steel gorget with two snarling direwolves detailed on it to protect his neck. He was quickly ready thanks to one of the servant's sons helping him into the armour and Bran quickly had a look out of the window. The sun was still bright in the sky but it was beginning to set slowly, and that gave Bran a fantastic view of Blackwater Bay, as well as the dozens of ships with maroon sails that had little specks of gold on them. Bran knew his sigils and his history well enough, and the tales of the Blackfyre Rebellions had made it easy to recognise the Golden Company banner coming towards King's Landing with a vengeance.

* * *

**So while Tywin is surrounded, his plot with Kevan has come to fruition and soon both the major cities in the realm will be under siege…**

**Robb is also back home in Winterfell. Just like the books the timelines are a little skewed, not that it matters in the long run really but I just thought you should all be aware. He's not teleporting I promise!**

**Next time: Roose has a proposition for Robb, we return to Essos, and of course, there's a bit of a battle to be had in the City of King's…**

**Reviews:**

**spectre4hire: ****Probably not as humbled as I was when I realised it was you reviewing on my own stories! I personally think that Robert can be redeemed to an extent. His lack of care has cost him his throne security and now his heir is his dour brother that he dislikes, so his first priority is to make some more heirs, then he will take the time to raise them right, so long as he lives that long of course.**

**Chapter 28:**

**Shyraii: Bran is a 10-year-old with a crush, why on earth would Walda even notice him as anything other than a child of high nobility?**

**Guest (Tyrion): Not every family will have someone remember, but of those that do remember they will be the only member of their family. At the moment I don't have a Lannister remembering, but if I do it won't be Tyrion.**

**Lord Villarreal of house Grand: It's not something I'm going into detail with, but I've got it planned in case it is ever needed for a mention. The most you'll get from the story about Dany's past is probably in my version of the House of the Undying visions. Cregan Stark definitely crossed paths with Dany/Jon as they ruled.**

**Player42: He's no Ramsay Snow, so when the armies clashed he stopped firing yes, just as Davos did in Rises/the show.**

**Rolling Mist 13: I'm using the Golden Company numbers from the show, so 20,000 men.**

**Chuck Moloney: There's only one more to come, and that's all I can say.**


	30. The Battle of the Blackwater

**Hello again! We're getting very close to the halfway mark of the story chapter wise, but as you can tell there's still lots to get through before it is completed. Just a reminder that each individual POV isn't happening at exactly the same time, but for story telling purposes I've laid it out as I have. Bran's POV is just slightly ahead of Torrhen's for example.**

**I've also edited both Chapter 27 and 28. Nothing major has changed so you don't need to go back and reread, but King Aegon VI's death in the 'Rises' timeline is now around 30 years before Daenerys and Sam Tarly died, not 40. I'll have more on Dany's backstory in the final Author's Notes.**

**Bold speech is Dothraki.**

**I own nothing but Torrhen and any other OC's. All the rest belongs to either George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

"GET THOSE ARROWS ONTO THE WALLS!" One lone voice roared above all of the others in King's Landing. "YOU THERE! DON'T CARRY THE BARRELS OF OIL, ROLL THEM! IF THEY GO UP IN FLAMES THEN YOU'LL DOOM US ALL!"

Yohn Royce was screaming out different commands every few seconds it seemed, while Stannis was calm and composed standing above the Mud Gate waiting for the first set of Golden Company ships to clash with his own fleet. Bran himself was feeling extremely out of place on the walls, a small dirk strapped to his hip.

"How are our supplies?" Stannis asked one of his gold cloak captains calmly, although his eyes were watching the incoming fleet.

"Enough for a three year siege, Lord Stannis." The man bowed quickly.

Stannis nodded. "Very good. Is the Queen comfortable?"

The man nodded. "The drawbridge to both the Red Keep and Maegor's Holdfast have been raised as you ordered, just in case."

Stannis nodded once more. "Very well. Go to your station."

"My Lord." The man bowed again and sprinted away.

They stood in relative silence for a moment, listening to the shouts of the men getting into their positions before Stannis turned to Bran. "Have you ever killed a man?" He asked.

Bran shook his head. "No, My Lord."

"I didn't think so." Stannis commented. "Have you ever seen a man killed?"

Bran nodded at that one. "Once, my Father executed a deserter of the Night's Watch."

"You'll see more by nightfall." Stannis told him. "Just remember your training and stick with your Direwolf."

"Of course, My Lord." Bran nodded, putting his gloved hand on Summer's neck, stroking the fur.

Stannis looked back out to sea. "They'll begin to put men on the beaches and try to take this gate." The Baratheon explained. "With Ser Davos away we have next to no naval power, so it will be a fight man to man. What I want you to now is run over towards the siege engines on the walls and be another spotter, can you do that?"

Bran wanted to nod, but he first asked. "What's a spotter?"

Stannis didn't look at him but pointed out to the bay, where the ships were gaining. "On most of those ships they will have engines of their own designed to assault the walls. Our own catapults will aim to destroy them. You will need to point them out to the crew. Can you do that?" He repeated. Bran nodded quickly. "Then go."

Bran didn't waste time. "Come, Summer." He called before running along the battlements towards the Red Keep, where the first siege engines were being tied into place.

"Lord Brandon." The knight in charge, Ser Humfrey Clifton, greeted the young Stark. "Are you to join us?"

Bran had found the Westerlander odd, but Ser Humfrey was a cheery man even in the face of fighting against his family and liege lords. He was a distant cousin to the ruling Lord of House Clifton however, and had once told Bran that his loyalties were to Lord Stannis, who had taken him in to Dragonstone as a child and had allowed him to train as a knight when his family would not. "Lord Stannis bid me to be a spotter." He replied.

Ser Humfrey nodded. "Good, you can join Jasper and Fallon here then. Just make sure that you call out as soon as the ship you're aiming for is in range."

Bran nodded, and Ser Humfrey patted him on the shoulder before he went to shout at somebody for dropping one of the rocks. He looked out to the water again and he could see clearly the symbol of the Golden Company now. Turning to the two men at arms that were manning the catapult, Bran asked. "Have we any tar?"

Jasper just grunted, and Fallon looked down at Bran. "Not much, only a small barrel full for us milord."

"Just Bran." The youngster said quickly. "We're all to fight together, aren't we?"

"Aye, that we are." Fallon grinned.

Bran thought for a moment. "If we light our first few rocks and set some ships on fire, that could help."

"Good thinking, Lord Brandon." Ser Humfrey was back after making his rounds. "Light the second rock men, just so you know your line is correct."

"As you say, Ser." The two elder men bowed. A horn blew twice then, and Bran turned around to see Stannis in the distance holding his sword up.

"THIS IS IT!" Ser Humfrey roared. "ARM YOUR CATAPULTS!"

Jasper was the larger, and so he hauled a rock from the stone floor and dropped it into the catapult.

"Left a bit." Bran noted, and Fallon adjusted the weapon.

Stannis then dropped his sword, and cries of "LOOSE!" came from all over the battlements. Bran's catapult launched into action, thrusting the heavy rock high into the air. Bran kept his eye on their rock as it arced downwards, colliding with the middle of one of the masts. He grinned and clapped, but the other two were already back in action resetting the machine. Bran helped them adjust the line of fire once it was reset and he watched as Fallon poured some tar onto the boulder, and Jasper sparked a flame, lighting the rock up before they fired once more.

The second volley was much more spectacular, as the row of flaming rocks crashed down onto the first line of ships. Bran could hear the screams now as fires began to sprout along the wooden decks, although he was suddenly lurched sideways as Fallon clattered into him, a projectile narrowly missing him as it sailed over the walls. "Keep your eyes open lad!" The commoner roared. "This fight is only just beginning!"

* * *

Robb was glad to be back in Winterfell, and the routines of running the castle once more had returned to him almost as naturally as breathing. The difficulty he faced was dragging himself away from his son to perform the duties that were required of him however, and none frustrated him more than when Roose Bolton returned to Winterfell with a number of his men. The Bolton Lord had sent most of them with Torrhen Whitehill, the heir to Highpoint, although both he and his son were currently in Winterfell facing Robb in the main hall giving their reports. Rickon was also at the table, with the idea that he would listen and learn, although the young boy was more focused on his toy direwolf.

"The Ironborn have been slaughtered, and their ships either sunk or captured." Roose explained. Robb noticed Domeric looking down at his boots at the comment but said nothing on it.

"You have my thanks, Lord Bolton." Robb said formally. "And the thanks of both my Father and the King, I am sure."

"We have also had news of the South." Roose told Robb. "A rider found us on the way to Winterfell bearing news of a battle by a village close to Lannisport."

Cat was the only other member of Robb's family in the room, and she perked up at hearing that, worry etched on her face. "We have not heard anything since Sarsfield." She said.

"There was a large battle, My Lady. Many men died; I believe Rodrik Forrester was among the dead." Roose told them.

Robb sank back in his chair sadly. "He was a good man." The Stark said solemnly. "He will be missed."

"Lord Hornwood was also among the dead, along with the Tallhart cousins Benfred and Brandon." Domeric explained, his voice a lot more apologetic than Roose's had been."

That was more worrying, as while the Forrester's still had two more male heirs as well as Rodrik having just had a daughter that Robb couldn't recall the name of before he left for war, House Hornwood was down to its last male in Daryn and House Tallhart now only had a young girl as an heir to Ser Helman, although the ruler in Tallhart's Square did still have a brother and one remaining son.

"Which is why I want to bring forward the wedding of Domeric and Sansa." Roose said cautiously.

"No." Catelyn said firmly. Robb winced at her tone. "She's still a child."

Roose didn't react to his credit. "Her twin is married."

"Lord Bolton, men are different as you well know." Maester Luwin, who was also on the table with Robb, stated calmly. "Lady Sansa is still a child by all our laws until she bleeds."

"I understand." Roose said calmly. "And I would not ask were I not concerned. As the Battle of Oxcross has shown us nobody is safe from death, and I would have my only heir left to me wed before any further battles."

"Wed, but not bed." Robb said strongly. "But as acting Lord of Winterfell I will not agree to anything without Sansa agreeing herself."

"Robb." Catelyn protested, but she silenced herself at a glare from Robb.

"Let me make it clear." Robb told the entire room. "Ideally we would wait until Sansa is older and my Father was here to make the arrangements himself. But he is not, and Lord Bolton's concerns are legitimate." He then directed his speech directly to the Bolton's. "I will not agree to this now. I must speak with my sister herself and only if she is happy, then we will have her cloaked in front of the heart tree. She will remain in Winterfell until her 16th nameday at the earliest, though Domeric you of course are welcome to stay until then as well."

Roose didn't look overly happy, but after a stern glare from Domeric he nodded. "Very well. Though the consummation must happen once she is a woman. As I said, Domeric is my only heir and it would be remiss of me to not do all I can to ensure more."

"You are not too old yet to sire children, My Lord." Robb said, ignoring the looks he got from Catelyn at the comment. "Mayhaps a wife of your own might allay your fears, but I will not compromise the safety of my sister or any future child she has, and I hope you would not wish to either."

Roose Bolton bowed his head. "As you say."

Robb smiled at the agreement. "Then so long as Sansa agrees, we can have a ceremony at the very least."

"Thank you, Lord Robb." Domeric said quickly and loudly before his Father could add anything else. "If we may, we've had a long ride and could use some rest."

"Of course." Robb nodded. "Your rooms from before are being made up for you as we speak, and please join me for supper tonight and we can speak on your efforts with the Ironborn."

Domeric and Roose both bowed and left the Great Hall, leaving Robb bracing himself for the tirade that was about to come. "Sansa is 14." Catelyn snapped.

"As is Torrhen, as is Mira." Robb argued back. "Yet they were wed at Moat Cailin."

Cat didn't look amused. "Robb…"

"Sansa isn't yet a woman, but she will be soon." Robb interrupted. "I would prefer to wait too, Mother, but we are still at war. We don't have a luxury of being able to wait until she is 16 when Roose Bolton is the type to look for any reason to betray us." The latter was said at a whisper, so that only Cat and Luwin could hear. "This way, he gets the wedding that he wants, Sansa is protected, and she will stay here under our guidance until she is 16."

Catelyn didn't look happy still and rose from her seat. "As you say." She said bitterly. "Come, Rickon."

The youngster followed Cat out of the room, and now that it was just Robb and Luwin left alone in the Great Hall, Robb breathed out heavily and relaxed in his seat. "Did I do the right thing? I couldn't just outright deny him."

"You were firm in the protection of your sister." Luwin nodded. "As Lady Stark is firm in her concern about her daughter."

"That tells me nothing." Robb chuckled lightly.

Luwin had a small smirk on his face. "I believe you were as giving yet still as cautious as you could have been. So long as they don't share a bed until her second moonblood then I see no issues."

"I won't force her." A voice came from the doorway, and Domeric was back in the room. Robb sat upright once more, an action that caused Grey Wind to perk up as the direwolf eyed up the Bolton heir. "I apologise for what just happened, I did say that I was happy to wait, but my Father would hear none of it."

Robb appreciated that. "I understand his reasoning, just as I hope he can understand mine."

"If he doesn't, he won't say anything." Domeric waved away. "And as I said, I will not force Sansa. As little as we know of each other I care for her, and I care for both you and Torrhen also. I swear by all the Gods that until she is happy and able too, I will not share a bed with your sister."

Robb smiled, standing up and walking around the table to shake his hand. "And you are the reason I am happy to ask Sansa if she is ok with this rather than outright deny it." Robb admitted. "Torrhen spoke a lot of your character after the incident with the bastard, and trust me, if he wasn't happy with the arrangement we'd both know about it." He laughed at the last sentence.

Domeric also chuckled nervously. "Our families have often hated one another. I would change that in every way I can, not just with a marriage."

Robb nodded. "As would I." He clapped Domeric on the back. "She's in her lessons at the moment. Why don't you go and rescue her from that miserable Septa and spend some time with her, I'll speak with her later."

Domeric nodded. "Lord Robb." He said formally, bowing his head in dismissal.

"Ser Domeric." Robb replied, watching as the heir to the Dreadfort walked out of the room once more, and happy with his thoughts that he had got this decision exactly right.

* * *

Jon Snow was now one of the most beloved people in Vaes Dothrak once the story of Viserys' death came out. Khal Drogo himself personally rewarded Jon with the finest horse in the Khalasar, as well as a brand new arakh. Dany knew that he would never use the weapon, but Jon was a polite person and he thanked the Khal for the gift anyway.

A celebration was also called for, with the Khal stating that the child growing inside Daenerys is already proving to be the 'Stallion who Mounts the World' with the Gods calling for his protection. Dany smiled sadly at the declaration, knowing that the life in her belly would never truly come to pass, although the sacrifice would be needed to save the entire world.

It was an odd feeling too, Daenerys thought. In her mind, she hadn't been pregnant for over 40 years when her last child, Rhaegar, was born to her. She smiled fondly at the thought of her youngest son in her old life, before shaking the memories away and re-joining the party.

She noticed Ser Jorah having a drink with Rakharo and decided that the conversation she needed to have with her old bear couldn't wait. She dragged him outside the Temple of the Dosh Khaleen, walking past a couple of amorous Dothraki before they were alone.

"Khaleesi, what is wrong?" Ser Jorah asked.

Dany smiled sadly again. "I need you to tell me something, Ser."

"Anything." Jorah said honestly.

"What was in the last message you sent to King Robert about me?"

Jorah was thrown. "Khaleesi… I can explain."

"Just tell me, Jorah." Dany said firmly, surprising him.

Jorah gulped. "That you were to wed in Pentos."

That surprised Dany. "Really? Nothing since then?"

Jorah shook his head. "Lord Stark has pardoned me, Khaleesi. I have no need of betraying your secrets to the Usurper while I hold this parchment." He pulled a letter out of his shirt and handed it to Dany, and the Targaryen woman read it with a smile.

"Then things in Westeros are already changing." She whispered.

"Khaleesi?" Jorah asked.

Dany shook her head. "It doesn't matter. What matters is what we do now." She thought internally about the sequence of events that led to her dragons hatching. "I want you to write to Varys and tell him of my pregnancy."

"Khaleesi…" Jorah protested. "If the Usurper hears…"

"I will be safe." Dany smiled sweetly. "I have you to protect me."

Jorah was troubled still. "I am but one man."

"And I have both Jon Snow and his wolf as well." Dany reassured him. "Do you trust me?" Jorah nodded immediately. "Then see it done."

The Mormont knight bowed his head and departed, leaving Daenerys on her own. As she watched the man walk away she thought back to her final breaths before, lying in her bed surrounded by her two sons, her three grandchildren, and even her two great grandsons, the youngest still a babe in arms. Her hands instinctively found their way to her stomach, and she sighed heavily.

The Three Eyed Raven, her ancestor's bastard son Brynden Rivers, had explained it all to her. If they were to win the War for the Dawn and keep as many people alive as they possibly could, all Daenerys could do was go about her life as she had done before. "_Hatch the dragons._" He had told her, while showing her visions of her other life's future and this life's past. "_Raise them, nurture them and become the Queen you were born to be in the Bay of Dragons. When the Black Wolf comes for you, then you can break free of the path you forged all those years ago._"

Losing herself in her memories was interrupted however, as Irri the handmaiden pulled on her arm. "**Khaleesi.**" She said. "**The Khal is asking for you.**"

Dany smiled sadly. "**I will be inside in a moment.**" She said. She looked up at the sun as it began to set in the west and her hand dropped from her stomach. She was a Queen, and she had a duty to the world that she couldn't back out from.

* * *

King Robert had been furious when the raven arrived to tell them that King's Landing was being overrun by sellswords. He had immediately wanted to pack up and march back, and to take this hulk of an army back to punish the sellswords, but thankfully Ned had persuaded his friend otherwise. The shouting had grown too much for Torrhen however, who decided that the siege was boring him. He left a note for his Father and snuck away from their camp towards the South, where he had heard that a small forest held a large amount of game.

It was a day's ride to the forest, and it was dark by the time that Torrhen was ready to settle down and rest for the night. He looked for the sturdiest tree that he could find and hauled himself up it, tying himself to the branch he was happy to rest on before he closed his eyes.

He dreamed of his Direwolf as he often did, although Balerion was racing through the forest following a scent. '_Man'_ was the only thought in his mind as he followed it.

The next morning Balerion was back with Torrhen, although the hunting trip had quickly become less about finding a deer as it had been about working out who was in the area. They rode quickly, following Balerion's nose as they raced through the trees. Before Torrhen knew it, it was nightfall again. Yet again the Stark hauled himself up a tree, but this time he didn't sleep.

A campfire was smoking in the distance, although Torrhen knew that no loyalist man should be in the area. He dropped back down to the ground and made sure that Winter's Bite was in his hands. Together with his jet black Direwolf they stalked through the trees towards the campfire, stopping in a bush to scout.

He made out three figures sitting around the campfire all eating something, but through the branches he couldn't see much more. Torrhen turned to Balerion, silently saying what he needed the Direwolf to do before the Direwolf turned and moved around to the other side of the camp, to entrap the strangers. Torrhen let his eyes roll back into his head so he could see through Balerion's eyes, keeping in the back of the Direwolf's mind so that the wolf could move freely until he was in position. Giving the wolf a gentle nudge forward, Torrhen let himself back into his own skin and gripped his sword and shield tightly.

A girl's scream was the signal Torrhen needed, and he pushed himself through the bush into the small campsite, where he saw three small people facing the snarling Balerion. One was in armour, and all of them had blonde hair.

"Surrender now." He called out, catching the attention of all three people. "And you may yet live." Only when he saw everybody properly did he realise who they were. Tyrion Lannister was in the armour, frantically wielding a short sword between both Torrhen and Balerion. The other two were clearly Cersei's youngest children, Tommen and Myrcella. "Well." Torrhen smirked. "His Grace will be delighted to see all three of you."

Tyrion threw his sword down to the ground. "Mercy." He begged. "The children… they are innocent of all of my family's crimes."

"I don't harm children." Torrhen snapped. "You on the other hand, you're a Lannister."

"A Lannister that will get you nothing." Tyrion laughed bitterly. "Even if I've not already been disinherited as a traitor."

That intrigued Torrhen, and he sheathed Winter's Bite. "So you fled Casterly Rock?" He asked.

Tyrion nodded. "I knew what was about to happen. My Father is too stubborn for his own good, and Cersei will never abandon her lie. They will both die, as will Joffrey and Jaime no doubt. All I want is to protect the innocents. Myrcella and Tommen are good and kind, Lord Stark. They do not deserve the fate that has been forced upon them."

"Uncle Tyrion…" Tommen whispered.

"Hush, Tommen. It's ok." Tyrion tried to calm the boy.

"Balerion!" Torrhen called. The Direwolf stopped his snarling and walked slowly over to Torrhen's side. "Not to worry, he will not harm you."

"Thank you." Tyrion said. "I swear, we don't want trouble. My family are as dead to me as I am to them and I want no part in their self-destruction. I only ask that you guarantee the lives of the children."

Torrhen knew he shouldn't give guarantees, but he nodded. "I'll speak with my Father; he will not have innocents harmed." He walked forwards and picked up the short sword. "Hand over any weapons you have in the camp, and we will head back to Lannisport at first light."

Myrcella kept Tommen close to her, but the young girl smiled as much as she could, given the situation, and said. "Thank you, Lord Stark." The boy said nothing.

Tyrion did as asked and handed over a couple of other knives which Torrhen placed in his satchel before pushing the children towards the hastily erected tent. Torrhen preferred to stay outside however and settled himself on a patch by a tree. "Keep guard, Bal." He instructed the Direwolf. "If they try to escape, kill the Imp."

* * *

King's Landing was smoking as dusk began to fall. The initial volleys of projectiles from the defenders was good, but the Golden Company had made landfall, and now all Bran could hear was the cries of the dying and the clash of swords. Once the fighting began in earnest he had been handed a bow, and while he was trying his best, he thought that he had only managed to injure one person.

The battle had been raging for a long time, how long Bran didn't know, but it was long enough that his belly was growling and his arm was tired. He had lost Stannis, the Baratheon Lord presumably fighting with his men.

He stopped himself from getting lost in his thoughts as he ducked an arrow that went zooming past his ear, and tried to send an arrow back over the walls, although it was tame. Cursing under his breath, he went to nock another arrow, but the smack of a ladder hitting the walls near him scared him even more. He dropped his bow and unsheathed his dirk, his arms shaking in terror. He couldn't hear any of the shouting around him either, his terror too great.

A man in golden armour soon poked his head up above the parapet, although his head was taken clean off as from out of nowhere Ser Humfrey appeared. "Get to the Keep!" Humfrey screamed at Bran. "Send word to…"

The Westerman was cut short as a mace crunched into his face. Ser Humfrey dropped to the floor still staring at Bran, although the spikes of the mace had mangled his face so badly he looked like he had been mauled and one of his eyeballs had exploded in its socket. Bran screamed, as a hulking man stepped over the parapet and onto the walls, a weapon of heavy iron links over his back. He grinned down at Bran, who swung with all his might, only for his dirk to be caught in the grip of the large man and thrown to one side. Bran ran away, noticing that both Fallon and Jasper went to fight this beast, only for them both to fall.

To his horror, Bran tripped as he ran. His knees were sore as he fell, and he turned quickly to see the man closing the distance between them. Bran backed away as quickly as he could, only to hit his head on the catapults that had lined the walls. His vision was blurry, and all he could do as this man neared him was whisper. "Please…"

Suddenly a flash of fur soared over him, and Bran watched groggily as Summer was growling and ripping chunks out of this man, his jaw too powerful to be punched away. Bran was truly grateful when Summer jumped up and caught the man's throat, ripping it away in a spurt of blood and killing him instantly.

"Good wolf." Bran whispered, a headache forming. The Stark could have sworn that the Direwolf smiled at him, but he didn't wait to find out. He got to his feet and turned towards the Red Keep, sprinting as fast as he could to go for reinforcements as Ser Humfrey had wanted.

It didn't take him long, and as soon as the order had been relayed he was placed in the care of a young Maester, who took Bran up to one of the towers and put some poultice on the bump that was forming on his head before forcing Bran to sit by the window. The Stark began stroking Summer's fur, truly grateful for his life being saved by his wolf when a long, loud horn note was sounded. Bran carefully got up and walked towards a window.

He could see the fires on the coastline, as both ships and ground burnt. He could see a sea of gold trying and failing to break through the strong walls of King's Landing, but it was out on the horizon that caught his attention next.

Ships. Dozens and dozens of ships were sailing towards the city. Bran initially felt true dread as he began wondering how on earth they could repel all of those ships, even with the Valemen fighting alongside them. His dread turned to joy however as he saw the sails on the ships. The black stag of Baratheon, the black ship on grey of House Seaworth, the merman of Manderly, the Direwolf of Stark. It was Ser Davos and the Royal fleet along with the newly built Northern fleet!

Bran felt a tear drop from his eye as the Royal Fleet joined in the battle, crashing into and engaging with the Golden Company, blocking their exit. Wiping it away, he couldn't contain his grin at the sight of the fight turning in their favour.

* * *

**So what I might do at some point is add one final chapter to Black Wolf Rises where I put the timeline of what happened afterwards, so that at least the major parts of Daenerys' back story make a lot more sense to everybody. I want to flesh it out more before I do that though, so we shall see. If anybody has any questions though, on both hers and Jon's fates and family as well as Cregan Starks, then all you need do is ask and I shall PM you the answers.**

**As for this chapter however, and lots happened! Dany knows about Jorah's betrayal of course, but now she knows that things in Westeros are a lot different. Roose Bolton is also being sly, trying to force through the marriage with Sansa… luckily Domeric is a good man, and Robb feels as though he can trust him, even though he can't trust Roose. Remember this is still technically Season 1, so Sansa hasn't bled yet.**

**Over to the West, and Torrhen has captured Tyrion and the children! Robert's reaction will be interesting. I've seen stories where he leaves the kids alone, and also where he kills them all just to be safe. What will happen here?**

**Finally, the Golden Company are at King's Landing… this is the battle that's been the most trouble for me, as I wanted to explain it as best I could but putting a 10-year-old in the mix makes that difficult. I hope it is alright though and you all understand what's gone on.**

**That's it for this chapter though. Let me know what you think of it in either the reviews or via PM!**

**Next time: Robert judges Tyrion, a Stark goes missing, and the Battle of Blackwater Bay concludes.**

**Reviews:**

**Freakdogsflare: He's had a lot on his mind since he's been in this world that the secret passage at the moment has slipped it. He may remember later though…**

**Lord Villarreal of house Grand: Tywin sent Kevan off to get the Golden Company a while back. As for Bran, he's still only ten or eleven, not up to the main fighting yet, but soon he may be.**

**Lightningscar: I'm glad you liked it! There are enough men in King's Landing to repel the invasion, or at least there should be, so Lannisport can remain under siege. As for Victarion, Robb just wanted him away from any body of water, and safely locked away in his own castle seems the best place for him.**

**Rolling Mist 13: I enjoyed writing the Victarion fight too! It wasn't originally meant to happen, but the way the writing fell I'm glad it did. Stannis and Bran is a fun one too, and pretty unique as I've not seen many stories do it.**

**msladyaries08: Some will live, some will die quickly and some will die slowly... it all depends on King Robert's mood.**


	31. The Flayed Wolf

**I'm sorry this has been so late… as I mentioned before I've run out of buffer chapters and I've had a severe case of writer's block. Hopefully this chapter can make it up to all of you though!**

**This chapter takes us to Episode 6 of the first season, as you will see by the first scene. Season 1 is passing us by slowly, and I promise it will be the longest of the seasons. This first war is just massive and lengthy in comparison to the rest of the plot points I'll be hitting.**

**I own nothing but Torrhen and any other OC's. Everyone and everything else is the property of George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

Jon had once thought that the sight of the mauled Direwolf mother was the most disgusting thing that he had ever seen, but seeing Daenerys force an entire horse's heart down without throwing up was now right at the top of the list. After the ceremony was complete and the prophecy made by the Dothraki Priestess, he had to excuse himself from the temple of the Dosh Khaleen. He didn't know how long it had been since he left the tent, but by the time he realised what time it was Jorah Mormont had left and come back again, grasping a letter in his hands.

"News, from the West." The Mormont knight explained.

"What news?" Daenerys asked. Jon immediately stood up and turned to her.

"Khaleesi." He bowed his head.

Dany smirked. "None of that, please Jon. To you, I will always be Dany." Jon nodded awkwardly but couldn't yet bring himself to be so formal with another man's wife. "What news?"

"Lannister and Baratheon are at war." Jorah explained. "Apparently the Usurper found out that the Lannister woman's children were not his, and he has gathered a vast host. They have already trapped Tywin Lannister's forces in the Westerlands by taking the Golden Tooth, along with House Tully and Stark."

"My family?" Jon asked quickly.

Jorah scrolled through the message again. "Lord Eddard and Torrhen are with the King in the West, Robb Stark was leading a host of men down to King's Landing." Jon breathed a sigh of relief. "This news will be old, Jon."

"But it is welcomed all the same." Dany insisted. "Already things are changing vastly out of hand across the Narrow Sea." She had told Jorah everything after he had proved his loyalty to her, and the Targaryen looked between her two most trusted men. "That is why things must go as similar as possible. We must hatch the eggs, and to do that we need to encourage the Khal to go to war."

"How can we do that?" Jon asked. "He seems content to sit until your babe is born."

Dany thought for a moment, before she turned to Jorah. "Keep an eye out for any messages from the Spider. He knows about Rhaego now and I'm sure he will have arranged some form of assassination. We thwart that in the process and blame the Usurper, and Drogo will have no choice."

She then smiled at the pair of them before returning into the temple, leaving the two Northmen staring at her as if she had gone mad.

* * *

In the few months on campaign Torrhen had gotten used to the stares from the Northmen and Rivermen as he and Balerion went about their business, although this time he felt the eyes of every single man in the camp around Lannisport.

"Has nobody here seen a dwarf before?" Tyrion Lannister exclaimed loudly. He was sat atop Torrhen's horse with the two Lannister children while the Stark walked alongside them leading his horse Obsidian towards the main tent, where he reckoned King Robert would be in a meeting with his commanders. He was fairly surprised to see Ser Perwyn Frey standing by the tent dressed in the golden Kingsguard armour and draped in a white cloak, but his attention was taken by Tommen staring at the steady bombardment of Lannisport.

"There are so many fires…" The boy whispered.

He was right, half a dozen plumes of smoke rose over the walls that Torrhen could see, and he knew that the loyalists were camped all the way around the walls and could imagine more would be seen in the coming days.

"That's what happens in sieges Tommen." Myrcella whispered back, hugging the boy tighter. They stopped before the tent when a Stark soldier came to take the reigns of Obsidian, and Torrhen helped the three prisoners down.

Ser Perwyn poked his head through the tent for a moment before returning and stating. "His Grace will see you now."

Torrhen led the way into the tent and saw a handful of the commanders standing around a now covered up map table. He saw his Father alongside Lord Umber and Ser Barristan, he saw Edmure Tully stood by a couple of Frey's and the Blackfish. He also saw a host of Reachmen, but only truly recognised Loras Tyrell. He bent the knee towards King Robert. "Your Grace."

"You should have been in this meeting, boy." Robert said coolly. "Where have you been?"

"I've never been in a siege before." Torrhen said. "I was bored, and Balerion wanted a hunt. I thought it fun to accompany him."

Robert grimaced. "A hunt." He said plainly, and Torrhen couldn't tell if it was admonishment or jealousy in his tone. "And what, pray tell, did you come back with."

Torrhen grinned. "Lions, Your Grace." He stepped aside as Balerion's growling forced the three prisoners inside.

Loras was the first to react, grinning from ear to ear. Ned just looked baffled, whilst Torrhen's uncle Edmure was bemused. The first noise though came from the King, who let out roaring laughter.

"Father…" Tommen whimpered, but that only served to make the King slam his fist on the table, making the wooden object shake under the force.

"I am not your Father, bastard." Robert growled menacingly.

Tyrion looked to interject. "He's a child, Your Grace… he doesn't understand."

That didn't help Robert's mood one bit, as he glowered down at the little man. "Then somebody should let the bastard know that his Mother is an incestuous whore and will die an extremely painful death once I get my hands on her."

"Robert." Ned said quietly, warning his friend. "He's only a boy."

"And an innocent one at that." Tyrion added. "Possibly the only innocent boy that claims descent from my Father."

"Not including yourself in that, Imp?" Loras smirked.

Tyrion shook his head, but his eyes looked angry. "Oh no, I've done many a thing that would shatter anyone's innocence, Lord Tyrell."

"How did you capture them?" Ser Barristan asked, eager to steer the conversation away from Tyrion Lannister's many misdemeanours.

Torrhen shrugged. "They were camping in the woods to the South. I stumbled across them."

"And why are you not inside the walls of Casterly Rock?" Ned asked Tyrion. "Surely you'd have been safer there."

"For a time." Tyrion nodded. "Although my Father seems hell bent on getting us all killed, and whilst I'm here partially to save my own head from being detached from my body, the children are innocent in all of this. I came to bargain for their lives."

"Not Joffrey's?" Ser Barristan asked.

Tyrion showed his dark glare then. "Joffrey is a monster. He can rot with the rest of them. I ask only one more favour."

Robert clenched his teeth. "You are in no position to bargain."

"Jaime." Tyrion said firmly, and a wave of muttering filled the tent. "Spare his life. Send him to the Wall or Essos or whatever, but please, Your Grace, spare him."

"You wish for me to spare the man that cuckolded me?" Robert was turning red at this point. "You have a funny way of asking to be executed, Lannister."

Tyrion glared right back. "My Father will die, my sister will die, my cousins will likely die too. I only ask that Jaime be spared, and I will forever be your loyal man and House Lannister will stay in the background of Westerosi politics for generations. I swear it."

Robert was about to explode in an angry tirade, but Ned got to him first, whispering in the King's ear. Torrhen was amazed at his Father's ability to calm the Baratheon King, but Robert began breathing heavily and turning a normal shade once more. "Ned… I'll look weak." He said unhappily.

"The bigger picture, Robert." Ned said quietly. "The Night's Watch could use a man like Jaime Lannister."

"Will he be loyal?" Lord Umber asked. "Pardon me for interrupting, Your Grace, but it's my lands closest to the Wall. I won't have no traitor go there only for my people to be the first in a long line of vengeful killings."

"I will make sure of it." Tyrion nodded. "Do what you like with me and the rest of them in Casterly Rock, but please, spare Jaime and these two."

"We would never harm children." Ned said quickly, before Robert even opened his mouth. "Although, understand our position, we cannot allow Tommen any freedom."

"Send him to Oldtown." Baelor Hightower suggested. "The Maesters have no family names. Tommen Waters can become Maester Tommen."

"And the girl?" The Blackfish asked, as though Myrcella wasn't standing there quietly holding her brother tightly.

"The Septa's." Ned suggested. "There's a motherhouse in Oldtown too, is there not?"

"There is." Baelor nodded.

Loras Tyrell wasn't convinced. "Is it wise keeping the two in the same city?"

Ned fixed the young Tyrell with a stern glare. "They are but children, Lord Tyrell, and by the sound of things the only friends they have are one another." He turned to Robert. "You cared for them both once, it would be cruel to separate them."

Robert nodded. "Aye, send them both to Oldtown. But under strict instructions that they fulfil their training and swear their vows of chastity. I will have no threat of further bastards hanging over my own heirs."

* * *

"A note?"

After the meeting Torrhen had handed the Lannister prisoners over to the King's own soldiers and snuck away to his tent for a lie down, although he had barely been there for 5 minutes before his Father had pushed his way through.

"I was bored." Torrhen shrugged.

"Sieges are boring, Torrhen." Ned chastised. "But you don't wander off in enemy territory just because you're bored!"

Torrhen swivelled so he was sat down on his cot and looked down at his feet. "I had Bal."

"Balerion is one Direwolf, Torrhen." Ned explained coldly. "A formidable beast for sure, but how many Direwolves survived you?"

It was a low blow, but Torrhen winced at the memory of Lady's body being brought back to Winterfell. "I was careful." He said, but it was half hearted.

"You should have taken somebody Torrhen. What if the Lannister's had a guard? What if they had captured you? Think before you act, please." Ned was on his knees now, his hands on Torrhen's own knees.

"I will, Father." Torrhen nodded. "I'm sorry."

Ned sighed before smiling quickly and ruffling Torrhen's growing hair. "Sometimes I look at you and I forget that you're actually older."

"I can't wait to be older." Torrhen smirked. "I miss my beard."

Ned barked out a laugh, standing up to his full height. "Don't wish away your childhood, you'll never get it back."

Torrhen grew silent, his eyes narrowing. "My childhood ended the day you were arrested."

Ned couldn't respond to that, and the only noise was the low snoring of Balerion on the bottom of Torrhen's bed. "Aye, I suppose your childhood was stolen by me in this life, too."

Torrhen looked up at his Father. "I wouldn't change it though, Father. This second chance is a blessing, and one I fully intend on making the most of."

"It's not just you though." Ned sighed. "Sansa is to wed within the week, if she hasn't already."

That got Torrhen's full attention. "They were to wait."

"Lord Bolton is impatient, and worried for his House's safety." Ned explained. "Robb gave them his permission with my blessing, under certain guidelines."

Ned explained the conditions to the younger twin, and Torrhen gritted his teeth. "I should be there. She's my sister."

"And she's my daughter." Ned reminded him with a wry smile. "We'll have a modest feast when we return to Winterfell, I promise."

"It doesn't feel right." Torrhen sighed. "She wasn't there at my wedding, and now I'm not there at hers."

Ned placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "You'll see her soon, and Mira too."

"I hope so." Torrhen said wistfully, although the pair of Starks were interrupted as Ser Arys Oakheart burst into the tent panting.

"My Lords… we've breached the walls… Lannisport is open to us!"

Ned immediately stood straighter, and his Lord's face was put on. "Get your armour on now, Torrhen." He commanded. "Ser Arys, with me."

And with that he left the tent at pace, leaving Torrhen still as a rock for a moment, before he sprung into action and got himself prepared.

* * *

Sansa was the most beautiful thing that Catelyn Stark had ever seen. The young maiden wore a fine gown of ivory coloured linen, and topped it off with a thick woollen grey cloak, with the snarling direwolf of her house proudly running along a green ledge on her back, and Catelyn hated it all.

"You're too young." She kept whispering as she brushed her daughter's long, auburn hair. "Far too young…"

Sansa however, smiled at her through the mirror. "You know why I have to though, Mother. We need to keep House Bolton on side."

"They're our vassals." Cat retorted. "They should follow us anyway."

Sansa chuckled lightly. "As should House Frey follow Grandfather, yet now they will likely only answer to the King after his marriage. Robb has made it clear on what is to happen. We both shall stay in Winterfell until I am 16, you know this."

Cat did, but the thought of her daughter marrying a Bolton this early still disagreed with her. She tied Sansa's hair up into a stunning Northern style and took a step back. "You look beautiful, Sansa."

The younger girl beamed at herself in the mirror, before the door swung open and in came a scowling Arya, holding the hand of the barely walking Sara Stark.

"Mama!" Sara shrieked.

Catelyn forced a smile as she saw her youngest daughter in her dress. "Why aren't you a pretty little thing." She cooed, picking the one-year-old up.

"Why do I have to wear a dress though." Arya said grumpily. "I'm not getting married."

"Because no matter how much archery training you do, young lady, you are a Lady of House Stark." Catelyn said firmly. "You will not shame us today."

"You look lovely, Arya." Sansa told her sister. Arya looked over at Sansa like she had grown an extra head. "I mean it! I'm not looking for any fights today I swear it."

"Thanks." Arya mumbled awkwardly. "We saw Dom on the way up, he was talking to Robb."

Sansa suddenly grew a bit nervous. "What if he thinks I'm too young."

Arya snorted, much to the disdain of her Mother. "Arya!" Catelyn scolded.

"What?" Arya protested. "He's always asking how Sansa is, wondering what sweets she likes, if she likes horses, what her favourite books are. He doesn't care if she's young, he just wants a happy marriage."

Even Catelyn had to admit that while the elder Bolton outright terrified her with his narrow glares and his reputation, Domeric seemed to be more like her Ned, having taken to the Vale as a second home and brought on board the values instilled there. She saw Sansa's delighted grin and sighed, stroking young Sara's auburn hair.

"He's so kind." Sansa said dreamily. "Not at all like his family."

"And thank the Seven for that." Cat said quietly. "But be cautious with your words, Sansa. Do not offend the man who's castle you are to live in."

Sansa nodded. "Sorry Mother."

A knock at the door came then. "Are you ladies decent?" Robb's voice called through.

"Come in, Robb." Sansa replied. The door opened and revealed Robb in a fine, dark blue doublet with a thick wolfskin cloak, tied together with two metal direwolves interlocking their mouths. Grey Wind was at his side.

"Wylla has taken Beron, Rickon and Robin down to the Godswood, and the Direwolves have gone with her." Robb explained to Catelyn. "Everybody is waiting."

Cat smiled sadly. "Very well." She said, tucking a strand of hair behind Sara's right ear before turning to Sansa. "I shall see you down there." She kissed her eldest daughter on the cheek before leaving the room, reminding herself internally to not cry.

* * *

In the absence of both Ned and Torrhen, Robb had been the one to give Sansa away while Roose Bolton conducted the service. Even as he walked down the lantern lit aisle he noted that the war had meant there was a distinct lack of senior Lords and heirs at the wedding. The Smalljon's toddler Ned Umber was the most senior noble available from Last Hearth, while places like Deepwood Motte, Karhold and White Harbour could only send women of their House.

It was only after the ceremony that Robb noticed just how few people were left in the North. Granted Lady Dustin was here, as well as Lord Bolton and the elderly Lord Ryswell, but even House Forrester were completely absent, a fact that annoyed Robb more than it possibly should have. That being said, the heir to Winterfell saw how happy his sister was as she twirled around the dancefloor with her new husband, and he sat contently next to his wife, who had their son sat on the table watching the festivities, being gently jigged around by Wylla to the music.

He also saw Catelyn on the dancefloor. His Mother had cheered up greatly in the last couple of hours and was currently twirling both Rickon and Robin around teaching them both some dance moves. Robb burst into laughter when he saw his youngest brother fall flat on his arse at one of the moves, and he sipped some more ale to calm himself down slightly.

His good mood was interrupted as Maester Luwin made his way towards the head table. Robb didn't take his eyes away from the dancing but leaned towards the elderly man. "What is it?"

"News from the South, My Lord. As well as from the Wall."

The latter surprised him. "The Wall?"

"The First Ranger is missing." Luwin said quietly, so only he and Wylla heard. Robb's wife, thankfully, continued acting as if everything was alright.

Robb sighed. "He knows the lands Beyond the Wall better than anybody. I have faith he will find his way back to Winterfell one day. What of the South?"

"There is a sense of stalemate." Luwin explained, handing Robb a letter from Ned. Robb read it and sucked in a breath. He looked up again after he had finished and saw his Mother looking over, concerned. Shaking his head and smiling widely, Catelyn seemed appeased and began to drag the young boys around the dancefloor once more.

"Lannisport is close to falling." Robb explained to Wylla, who he knew was listening. "But Tywin Lannister is devious, he has bought the Golden Company and they are besieging the capital."

"Bran?" Wylla asked.

Robb shook his head. "No news, but he is Stannis' squire and we would have heard if the King's own brother was dead. No news is good news as far as I am concerned."

"What will you do, will you march South?" Wylla asked.

Robb shook his head once more. "If I were to ask the men here to march again they would I'm sure, but reluctantly and too slowly to make any difference. No, we stay here and rule, keeping one eye on the Ironborn and the other on the Wall."

"Mother preserve us." Wylla gasped. Robb quickly snapped his head towards her and was relieved when she was grinning. "Your sister is dancing."

"Of course she is, it's her wedding." Robb said, confused.

"No!" Wylla laughed. "In the corner."

She didn't point, but Robb didn't need her too. There in the dark he could just make out Arya dancing with Cregan Glenmore, the young man that had become a firm favourite to most of Robb's siblings, including him. Robb grinned at the sight. "He did help her with the bow." He noted. "Although I may need to keep him as an advisor, if he can convince Arya to dance…"

"Robb!" He heard a tiny voice come from beside him. Luwin had gone and in his place stood a slightly wobbly Sara Stark. She put her arms out towards him expectantly, and he duly obliged and picked her up. One of the handmaids was close by.

"Apologies, milord. She wouldn't sit still." She said, her head lowered.

"That's quite alright. Go and enjoy yourself, I'll take care of my sister." Robb smiled politely. The woman bowed and left the room, and Robb placed Sara down on the table next to Beron. It was strange, the war still raged down in the South and the lives of two of his brothers and his Father were still at risk, but up in Winterfell watching as Sansa and Domeric celebrated their union in the only way they could for a few years, Robb felt happier and more at peace than he had felt in a long time.

* * *

The Great Hall of the Red Keep was packed with soldiers. Bran was sat to one side with Summer just waiting to hear what the plan was now when Stannis came in flanked by a number of the senior Lords and Knights.

"Ser Davos has destroyed their ships." Stannis began, before gesturing Bran over towards him. "But his men are sailors, not land soldiers, the Golden Company would slaughter them on land."

"He is to blockade then?" Lord Hunter asked.

Stannis nodded. "They may be in the city, but they will never leave it alive." He looked towards Bran. "But we are not defeated yet. The King will be close to taking Casterly Rock and we still have allies."

"Where?" Yohn asked. He had a dark gash on his forehead. "The Vale numbers are depleting, as are your own."

"We have enough to hold the Castle." Ser Aron Santagar stated.

"And enough food within to withstand a short siege." Stannis finished. "The victory is still within reach, My Lords."

Yohn looked at Stannis with a wry smile. "You have a plan?"

Stannis nodded, looking at Bran. "I do. Come, Brandon." Stannis then walked past the Iron Throne and into the Small Council chambers, shutting the door behind Bran when the youngster entered. "You performed admirably."

"I stumbled and hit my head." Bran said sadly.

"You survived." Was the curt response. "Than in itself is an achievement. But I have a greater task for you now."

"Lord Stannis?" Bran asked.

Stannis motioned for him to go to the table, and Bran saw a large map of the Red Keep sprawled on top of it. "Do you know the history of the Red Keep? The stories of King Maegor?"

Bran nodded. "Maegor the Cruel oversaw the completion of the castle and invited all of the builders to feast with him before having them all killed, so only he knew the secrets."

"And do you think that nobody else found out?" Stannis asked, one eyebrow slightly raised. Bran wasn't sure, so he remained silent. "Varys wasn't just telling secrets to the King; he was keeping them from my Brother as well. He knew the secrets of the castle better than anybody alive, and he knew that there are secret ways out."

"You want to leave?" Bran asked quickly, instantly regretting it as he saw the look Stannis gave him.

"I am my Brother's representative here in King's Landing and the people expect to see me fight for them." Stannis explained. "But you are a boy, not well versed in warfare yet but you would be a valuable hostage if Ser Kevan got his hands on you. If we fall and you are captured, Robert's entire army would be forced to withdraw. That is why I want you to find this exit here." He pointed to the map, close to the dungeons. "Search the dungeons as quickly as possible. You will take half a dozen knights with you, and you are to travel Southwards to the Kingswood with this letter." Bran was handed a note from the Lord of Dragonstone that was sealed with the golden wax of his House. "Once you enter the woods, find the Reach army."

"The Reach have another army?" Bran interrupted, before looking apologetic. "Sorry…"

Stannis nodded briskly. "Led by my brother. Find them and we'll have King's Landing in our sole control in no time."

* * *

**If you were worried about the chapter title… I hope you breathed a sigh of relief! It was originally going to be a bit more Baratheon heavy with the title 'Ours is the Fury' but I pushed the main part of that to next chapter, and this was the best Stark/Bolton union I could think of.**

**Our first look at Jon in a few chapters shows where abouts they are at in Essos and reinforces Dany's plan of invoking déjà vu for a few years. Jon is uneasy, but of course Dany is stubborn when she wants to be…**

**Sansa is 'officially' married as well. It won't be consummated for a long time, but the sentiment is still there. The main thing about the wedding in my eyes however is the news from the Wall about Benjen. **

**Stannis has a plan too, which by the looks of things in King's Landing, he needs one. Speaking of plans, I'm pre-empting a lot of 'why doesn't Tyrion tell them about the secret entrance' questions… and I'll ask you why would he willingly volunteer information that will kill his whole family?**

**Thanks to everybody who's been reviewing, and I apologise again for the slow update!**

**Next time: Battles on both coasts of Westeros while Dany takes a stroll down the market…**

**Reviews:**

**InfinityMask: They married in chapter 67 of Rises. The redo is purely Torrhen. He died with many others bleeding over the roots of the Weirwood tree, leading the Gods to grant him a second chance. This world is simply that, Torrhen's second chance.**

**Masso 2010: Maybe in the later seasons, but not for a while.**

**Guest (Bran): If you're the same person that keeps asking for Bran to be shipped with a bunch of people… stop. Bran is betrothed to Shireen to form an alliance for House Stark and House Baratheon. He's also a ten-year-old kid at the moment, so nothing will happen romantically for a long time.**

**hwolf: He's a warg, but he hasn't opened his 'third eye'.**

**John Smith: You're right there, and especially when Ned is preaching to him whilst he's not unflinchingly angry.**

**Msladyaries08: He'll only tell them if he is forced to, he's still a Lannister even if he has left the rest for dead.**

**Lightningscar: Bran and Stannis are an interesting and fun pair to write together to be honest, I'm having a great time with them. Personally I see Roose as wanting to get a Stark under his control in case he has an opportunity to pounce, but Domeric is less ambitious than Roose and is a lot more willing to follow the Stark's. I'll still write her parts when necessary as Jon being there will give those two a different dynamic and seeing Dany's thoughts will be interesting. The fight for Casterly Rock will still be huge, as the Rock has never fallen for a reason, and while it may be a large coincidence for Tyrion to survive this (which I need him too for later) he needed to defect and be useful, and I don't think him rescuing the children is too out of character either. Eventually they did, but while Torrhen is less angry with Jaime and Tyrion, the name Lannister is still a sore spot with him. As for King's Landing… it needed stakes, and the Golden Company were a shambles in the show so I thought I'd give them a couple of badass moments. Thanks for the heads up about PM's too!**


	32. Cornered Lions

**This is a heck of a long chapter by a big margin, but I needed to get it all in this one, the penultimate chapter of the War of Robert's Wrath as I've been dubbing it myself. This is also going to be the longest plot arc of the entire story. I've split the story up into 13 different 'arcs', and this one, arc 7, at 13 chapters starting at Chapter 21 is by far the longest of them all.**

**Some dialogue comes from Season 1 Episode 7 'You Win or You Die'. That also shows where we are up to in terms of the overall plot.**

**I own nothing but Torrhen and any other OC's.**

* * *

Summer found the passageway first, the Direwolf somehow knowing exactly what Bran needed, and under the cover of darkness Bran left with Summer and half a dozen knights, including Jon Arryn's former squire and Ser Justin Massey, sneaking down the coastline towards the Kingswood. Summer's nose came in handy once again when they entered the woods, and the Direwolf led them all towards a large encampment of Reach and Stormlander soldiers.

The camp was a lot more jovial than inside the Red Keep had been, something that Justin Massey quickly took offense too. He didn't get a chance to complain though, as they were led towards the main tent where Renly sat eating a peach, speaking with the beauty that was Margaery Tyrell.

"Ah! Ser Justin!" Renly exclaimed, placing the half-eaten fruit on his plate. "You're alive!"

Ser Justin nodded. "The battles have been hard fought, but the Red Keep still held strong when we left."

"The Red Keep?" Margaery asked. Bran couldn't take his eyes off of her. "Not King's Landing?"

"King's Landing has fallen." Hugh of the Vale stated. "There were too many of them."

"We have come to help you coordinate an assault on the city." Ser Justin stated. "Lord Stannis bids that you flank King's Landing via the Blackwater Rush and attack from the North. The Golden Company expects to be secure there with all the Rivermen and Northmen fighting in the West."

"And he sends a child to tell me this?" Renly grinned, looking at Bran. "Come forward boy, don't be shy."

"This is Brandon Stark, son of Lord Eddard." Hugh announced.

Renly nodded. "My brothers squire, yes."

Bran stepped forwards and brought out the letter from Stannis. "Lord Stannis told me to give you this." He handed it over to Renly, who tore open the seal and scanned the parchment.

"A full-frontal assault on the Dragon Gate." Renly nodded. "Yes, we can do that." He looked back at Bran. "My Lady, why don't you go and show the little Lord and his pet to a tent."

Margaery smiled brightly and stood up from her seat. "Of course, Lord Husband." She bent down and kissed him on the cheek. "Follow me, Lord Stark."

Bran looked up at Ser Justin, who just nodded the once with an unamused look upon his face, and Bran followed the Tyrell woman. They walked a few paces when Margaery looked at him and smiled again. "Your wolf is lovely."

Bran looked at Summer and grinned. "His name is Summer, he has 6 siblings, like me. All of us have got a Direwolf."

"How exciting!" Margaery exclaimed, making Bran feel ten feet tall. "And such a majestic creature to have as a symbol of your house. Mine isn't quite so exciting I'm afraid." She giggled. "Although, the fields surrounding Highgarden are filled with thousands of golden roses and they are rather pretty."

"Sansa says that Highgarden is the best castle in Westeros." Bran said suddenly, feeling emboldened by the attention given to him by Margaery.

"Your sister sounds smart." Margaery winked at him. "Though I've heard grand tales of the majesty of Winterfell."

"I miss it." Bran admitted. "But I wouldn't get to be a knight there. As Lord Stannis' squire I will."

"You wish to be a knight?" Margaery asked.

Bran nodded. "More than anything."

Smiling, Margaery said. "My brother is a knight; you shall have to meet him when this dreadful war is over! Ah, here we are."

They had arrived at a small tent, although it had a comfortable bed inside it. "This is for me?" Bran asked.

"Why of course." Margaery said kindly. "You must be tired from your journey. Rest well, Brandon Stark, and I'm sure I shall see you in the morning." And with that she bent down and kissed him on the cheek, before walking away and leaving Bran alone, a wide grin on his face as he reached up to gingerly trace the area she had kissed with his finger.

"Wow…" He whispered.

* * *

It was market day in Vaes Dothrak, and both Jon and Jory were following the Khaleesi as she led her servants through the markets, picking up flowers, silks and other rarities. Jon had his hand constantly on his sword pommel, just waiting for something to happen.

They were walking down a narrow path towards a wine seller when Ser Jorah came running towards them. He handed Daenerys a letter and whispered in her ear. "It is done." Jon clenched his teeth at that. He still wasn't ok with the plan and felt that the risks were far greater than Daenerys thought. Still, she wasn't to be deterred and Jon was extremely determined to keep her safe.

"Good." Dany noted. "Then let us go wine tasting."

They walked further on, and Dany even got Jon to try some fermented Whale Blubber from Ib. They soon got to a small clearing however, and a wine seller crying out in Dothraki trying to sell his wares. "**Sweet reds! I have sweet reds from Lys, Volantis and the Arbor! Tyrosh pear brandy! Andalish sours! I have them! I have them!**" He spotted the small group then and pointed at Daenerys. "**A taste for the Khaleesi? I have a sweet red from Dorne, My Lady. One taste and you'll name your first child after me.**"

Jon could sense Dany tense up beside him, but to her credit she gave a smile to the wine seller. "My son already has his name." She said in the common tongue, in a way that almost seemed rehearsed. "But I enjoy a Dornish Red, I shall have a taste."

The wine seller looked at her with wider eyes, a look that Jon realised he disliked. "My Lady." The man responded. "You are from Westeros?"

"This is Daenerys Targaryen, the rightful Queen of Westeros." Jorah Mormont corrected the man.

The wine seller bowed his head. "Your Grace, forgive me."

"You are forgiven." Dany said amusedly. "Now, the wine?"

"This?" The man said in surprise before he threw the wine out onto the floor. "Dornish swill, not worthy of a Queen."

"I was born in Dorne." Jon said accusingly, playing his part in the charade.

The Wine seller chuckled nervously. "I mean no offence Ser, only… it is known that the finest wine in Westeros comes from the Arbor."

"I am no Ser." Jon said quickly. He looked at Dany, who just nodded. "Very well, fetch your Arbor wine."

The man grinned. "You shall not regret it, Your Grace." He said hurriedly, rushing to grab a case of the liquid. "The finest Arbor Red I have ever managed to procure. Have it! As a gift!"

He shoved the barrel into Jorah's hands, and the knight looked at the wine seller uncomfortably. Dany meanwhile smiled brightly at the small man. "Thank you." She said, seemingly sincerely. She began to turn away, before turning back with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Although, it is not often I meet a fellow Westerosi, where are you from?"

"Nowhere important." He answered. "Some backwater alley in Oldtown, I got on the first ship to Essos that I could find and never looked back."

Dany smiled politely, before turning to Jorah. "Pour me two cups, Ser Jorah. I wish to drink with the man from my homeland."

"Khaleesi…" The seller protested. "I am not worthy of this vintage."

"You are if I say you are." Dany said firmly. "We shall drink to our long exiles."

The seller opened his mouth to say something but closed his mouth again and cocked his head acceptingly. Jorah placed the barrel on a table and uncorked it, letting it air for a moment before pouring out two small cups worth. He handed one to Dany, and one to the merchant.

"To home." Dany said, raising her glass.

"To home." The merchant repeated, holding the cup hesitantly.

They both waited a few seconds, and Jon stared down the merchant with a glare. "You don't wish to drink?"

"Of course he doesn't." Dany said soothingly, although her eyes blazed. "He doesn't wish to die."

The man blinked in surprise, as Rakharo slowly moved to the back of the merchant, blocking all escape routes. "Your… Your Grace?"

"Do you think I am stupid?" Daenerys snarled, her face changing from innocent to glaring in an instant. "I have had more attempts on my life than you can even imagine. Do you really think I would trust a man that just gave me a full barrel of his best wine?"

"Drink." Jon commanded. "Prove that we are wrong."

"Khaleesi… please." The man pleaded.

Dany sighed, shaking her head and pouring her wine on the ground. "The Khal will enjoy you." She said mournfully. The man's eyes widened in horror this time, and he looked around erratically. He made a move towards Jon, but the Northman deftly dodged the merchant while sticking a leg out to send him flying to the ground, before Ghost pounced on him, snarling menacingly. The commotion had been heard by then, and the market guards had come to inspect. "**Take him to the Khal.**" Dany ordered. "**Tell him what has happened, that this man tried to poison his Khaleesi and his son.**"

"Please! Your Grace!" The man begged as he was roughly hoisted up and dragged away.

Jorah pushed the cork back in the barrel and picked it back up. "I shall go with them and take this as proof." He told her.

"Thank you, Ser Jorah." Dany smiled again. The Mormont bowed and followed the cries of the merchant, and Dany turned to Jon. "And thank you for going along with this."

"It still seemed a bit much." Jon admitted.

Dany nodded. "The Khal needs to know that the threat to my life is real for him to declare war." She looked back at the struggling merchant. "Hopefully this is enough."

* * *

Winter's Bite was red with blood, and Torrhen himself was as tired as he had ever been, but the sight of the golden lion holding an anchor on a field of red and blue dropping to the ground of the Lannisters of Lannisport's manse was one that he was glad he was there for. The Battle of Lannisport had been a long one and the City Watch were formidable opponents, but the sheer numbers of King Robert's loyalists overwhelmed the Westerlanders eventually, and by the end of the day Ser Loreon Lannister, the Master of Lannisport had surrendered the City.

Even with Casterly Rock looming large in the distance, there were a whole host of Lannister's in the manse, both male and female. The males were all given a choice of beheading and the Wall, while the women were offered to the septs. The Kingsguard were the ones to perform the executions, but both Torrhen and Ned stood quietly on one of the balconies overlooking the courtyard that would soon run red with the blood of the defiant.

Ser Barristan brought his sword down on one of the younger, more rash knights of the House that Torrhen had forgotten the name of, and the younger Stark winced at the cold look King Robert had as he watched on next to the Kingsguard Commander. "He looks furious, and these Lannisters did nothing to him." He commented.

Ned nodded. "Fury is a part of House Baratheon, and the Lannisters made Robert look a fool. He's doing this to remind them that he is still strong, but he is also unforgiving."

"What of Tyrion?" Torrhen asked. "He's a Lannister too."

Ned sighed. "Robert is no fool, Torrhen, or he wasn't when he first took the throne. He knows the importance of a Lannister in Casterly Rock, but he needs to be able to trust them. If Tyrion proves himself trustworthy, then he will be spared, and all his wishes acted on."

"Ser Damian Lannister." Ser Baelor Hightower called out, and another Lannister was forced to choose death or the Night's Watch.

"He isn't that bad really." Torrhen noted, as Ser Damian chose servitude. "Especially after he joined Dany in Meereen. I'd probably even have considered him a friend towards the end."

Ned looked uneasy. "The thought of befriending the son of Tywin is a peculiar one to me." He admitted. "It seems you got on with the House, even after everything."

"No." Torrhen said sharply. "Never the House. Never Cersei. But Jaime had been disinherited by the time I met him again, and Tyrion was fighting his sister with Dany. They are both better when away from the Rock, away from Cersei Lannister."

"I hope you're right." Ned admitted. "But I keep telling you, this is a different world to what you are used to, these may even be different people."

"You're no different." Torrhen shrugged. "With the right incentives, then anything could happen."

Ned smirked at his son. "Keep that attitude, Torrhen. This ability to see the best in our enemies could be useful when we take the Rock."

"You think we'll take it?" Torrhen asked.

Ned shrugged. "We have to capture Tywin Lannister and Joffrey to finish this war, and we have to finish this war if we are to be truly prepared for what comes next." Torrhen winced as he felt the phantom icy blade pierce his stomach. The Night King still terrified him. "Go and get some rest, son. We'll begin planning in the morning I have no doubt."

Torrhen nodded and watched one more execution before he departed the balcony for his designated chambers, quickly dropping onto the bed and falling asleep.

* * *

You couldn't go more than a minute without seeing some form of soldier or guard in Casterly Rock these days, Jaime noted. Almost his entire force left over from the Battle of Oxcross were gathering inside the castle now that Lannisport had fallen to the Baratheon alliance, and the sheer number of men meant that training was taking place everywhere. In the training yards, in the corridors, even in the barracks there were drills being performed.

Thankfully, Jaime was a Lannister of the main branch, and he was able to stay up in the tallest tower with the rest of his family. In one of the rare moments of peace he was able to have a scalding hot bath, and the Kingslayer relaxed into the water and closed his eyes, imagining the Battle of Oxcross again, although this time he dealt a mortal blow to Robert Baratheon.

His daydream was cut short however as the door opened to reveal his sister. "Get up. Get dressed." Cersei said commandingly.

"It's lovely to see you too Cersei." Jaime grinned. "Care to join me?"

Cersei scoffed and looked at him darkly. "Our home is under siege, Lannisport is in enemy hands and that's all you can think about?" She threw a towel at him, which he deftly caught. "Get dressed. I need you to do something for me." Groaning, Jaime got out of the tub and hastily dressed himself in a golden shirt with white nightwear trousers before he followed his sister towards her own personal chambers. She stopped by a balcony that had an excellent view of both the siege below Casterly Rock and Lannisport itself, still burning from the assault. "I used to love this view as a child." Cersei admitted wistfully. "Watching the city go about its business, they all looked so small, so beneath us, running around like ants. Now it reminds me of that man. They've taken our city, our possession, mine and yours."

"It was never mine." Jaime argued childishly.

Cersei just glared at him. "Look down. Look at the banners."

"Baratheon, Stark, Tully, Tyrell." Jaime shrugged. "Those are the houses that are attacking us."

"But only one man holds them all together." Cersei told him, before she looked away at the city again. "Do you remember when we were children? We would sneak down into the city after our lessons. We'd play at the docks, run along the beaches, jump off the cliffs…"

"Until you told Father on me that one time." Jaime reminded her.

Cersei ignored him. "The secret passages to the city still exist, Jaime. You could use one."

Jaime looked at her quizzically. "For what? Why would I go to an occupied city?"

"The Starks, the Tullys, the Tyrells. A formidable army all held together by one man." Cersei explained.

Jaime was slow at times it was true, but he looked at Cersei in horror as he understood her meaning. "No, you can't be serious."

"If Robert dies…"

"I'd be caught before I got within a mile of him!"

"You know the city better than every one of them!"

"No, Cersei." Jaime said firmly, as angry as he had ever been with her. "I would do a lot for you; I _have_ done a lot for you. But I will not give up my life on some foolish revenge plan. If you want Robert assassinated, find another idiot to go through with it. Leave me out of it."

He didn't wait for a response and turned away, storming out. He was barely out the door when he heard a snarl from her direction. "Coward." Shaking his head, he went back to his chambers and hoped that his bath was still warm, eager to forget the entire conversation had ever happened.

* * *

Dawn soon came, and Torrhen was back in his freshly cleaned armour in the main council chamber of the Lannisters of Lannisport's manse. A circular table had been brought in and a map of Casterly Rock placed on it. Torrhen took his place next to his Father on the King's right-hand side, while on the King's left stood Lord Loras. Other major Lords filled the table too, from the Reach, the North and the Riverlands.

"We can move all our siege weapons up the hills now we have the city." The Blackfish explained.

"We have the seas too, with the Redwyne Fleet." Ser Baelor Hightower added. "They have nowhere to run."

Robert shook his head. "They won't run, Tywin Lannister won't allow it." He stroked his beard hard at thought. "He will wait us out. They have the capability to defend a siege for years, so he will be hoping King's Landing falls in the meantime."

"They have thousands of men behind those walls too… tens of thousands." Ned added. "This will be a bloody business."

"Casterly Rock has never fallen… how can we succeed when others have failed?" Lord Karyl Vance asked. "The Golden Tooth is one thing… but Casterly Rock?"

Ned's eyes shot open, and he dragged Torrhen away from the table for one moment. When they were out of earshot, the Stark patriarch asked. "How did you do it before?"

"I didn't, I wasn't there." Torrhen insisted.

"But you heard the plans. You know what happened." Ned reasoned. "If you can remember, you'll save a lot of lives, Tor."

Torrhen thought hard for a moment, thinking back to the conversations in the Chamber of the Painted Table. "They had effectively abandoned the castle to take Highgarden, so it was easier than expected…" He trailed off. "The Imp. He knew of a secret passage. They took it from the inside."

Ned grinned widely. "Get him." He commanded, and Torrhen raced off towards the prison block. Ned walked back to the table where everybody else stared at him expectantly. "We have a plan… possibly."

"Well?" Robert asked impatiently. "What is it?"

Ned looked around the table. "It seems to me that we're planning on assaulting a castle that not one of us has spent more than a week inside. Casterly Rock is strong, and there is a good reason that it has never been taken. So how about we force Lord Tyrion to make good on his pledge. He helps us take Casterly Rock, and we grant him his wishes."

"Spare the Kingslayer?" Loras asked, bewildered. "We can't seriously…"

"If it's one man's life spared to save thousands of our own men, then we should consider it." The Greatjon bellowed over the Tyrell. "If you believe this to be right, Ned, then I'm with you."

"Aye." Came the voices of the few Northerner's in the room, and Ned was forever grateful for their support.

"He betrayed you, Your Grace!" Lord Mathis Rowan exclaimed. "You can't spare him!"

"He won't be going free." Edmure Tully shrugged. "He'll still be punished whilst serving the realm."

Robert held a hand up, and the room fell silent. The King turned to Ned and asked. "You truly believe this is the way? Trust a Lannister and spare the Kingslayer?"

Ned nodded. "I remember the Kingslayer at the moment I found him on the Throne. It was only after my accusations he turned cold to me." Torrhen's words rang in his ear. "Perhaps his actions then were for good reason and I was too quick to judge. And if I was wrong then, what don't I know now? If he fights to the death then so be it, we can say we tried. But if we capture the Kingslayer then I know that I would want to get some truths from him, and he is an excellent soldier. Spending his life at the Wall defending us from what lies beyond will be more beneficial to you than a fleeting moment of revenge."

"What lies beyond?" Loras snorted. "Snarks and Grumpkins?"

"And giants, and worse." The Greatjon said forebodingly. "Do not mock what you do not know, boy. I live closest to the Wall than all of you, there is danger up there."

The large man's tone was one of fear, and the entire room felt chills at his words. The silence was only broken by the door opening, and in came Torrhen holding a rope with Tyrion attached to the end of it. Balerion the Direwolf followed, making sure the Imp complied. "Father. Your Grace." Torrhen bowed. "Lord Tyrion."

"Why am I here?" Tyrion asked impatiently.

"To tell us how to take the Rock." Robert commented. "Do that, and I'll spare your damned brother."

Tyrion's eyes widened in shock. "Take the Rock? It's impossible. You'll have to starve them out."

"Or we could go through the secret passage you will lead us to. The one you built yourself." Torrhen told the Lannister.

Tyrion stared at the young Stark in a look of almost horror. "I don't… what secret passage?"

Torrhen had remembered the story by then and used his growing reputation as a seer to his advantage. "The one you used to sneak whores into the castle with." He said monotonously.

"How do you…" Tyrion began, before he sighed, defeated. He looked up at Robert. "I have your word?"

"The children will live. Your brother will live and face a fair trial." Robert said, albeit unhappily. "Your Father and sister will die painfully, and all Lannister males will have the option of death or the Wall, just as they did here. That is all I will offer you, dwarf." He said menacingly.

Tyrion gulped and nodded the once. "Then I must tell you a story. I was 16 and wishing to travel the world, but my Father refused and said that if I wanted responsibility, I would get it. He gave me the task of improving the sewer system, and in doing so, I gave myself a little something too…"

* * *

Margaery Tyrell had wanted to be able to see the Reachmen overwhelm King's Landing, and because he was so young, Bran Stark found himself sat atop a horse watching from the part of the Kingsroad on the hill North of King's Landing as Renly and his forces pushed through the Dragon Gate. The young Stark noticed that the Lannister Lion had been placed along the walls of the city, and he clenched his teeth at the sight of it.

"How long should it take?" Margaery asked, seeming impatient.

"As long as it needs to, My Lady." Ser Bryan Fossoway stated. Lord Loras' brother by law was in charge of the dozen men picked to be a guard to his Lord's sister. "Taking a city such as this is no mean feat."

Bran was more confident, however. "With the men from the Red Keep it will happen soon."

Margaery smiled. "I hope so, little Lord."

Bran grinned as he turned his attention back towards the city. They could see the Reachmen streaming into the city, and once the last man had entered they could only guess at what was happening. Minutes turned into an hour, and another one had passed by the time they saw movement outside the gates once more. Members of the Golden Company were fleeing on foot, only to be ridden down by Tyrell mounted knights.

"Look." Ser Bryan pointed towards the walls. "The signal."

The Lannister Lion was being cut down, and in its place hung the crowned stag of Baratheon. "We've won." Margaery grinned. "How lovely!"

They waited for a while longer until men from inside the city came to collect them, but Bran soon was riding through the city. Buildings had collapsed and men were on the ground dead, seemingly everywhere. Thankfully it was mostly the Golden Company, but he did notice a few Tyrell shields bloodied on the ground too.

They were escorted into the Red Keep and into the Throne Room, where Bran was grateful to see Stannis Baratheon still standing, although he was leaning heavily on one of the pillars. Renly of course looked resplendent in his armour, and he immediately walked over towards them. "My beloved wife!" He cried out. "Welcome to King's Landing, the battle is ours!"

Margaery grinned and was about to say something, when somebody shouted from behind Bran. "Her Grace, Queen Walda!"

Men began to get on one knee, and Bran did the same once Stannis forced himself down as well. He looked up as the noticeably pregnant Queen and her ladies walked into the Throne Room. She walked over towards the two Baratheon brothers, her ugly elder kinsman Black Walder behind her. "Lord Stannis." She said calmly. "Lord Renly."

The two Baratheon's rose, as did the rest of the room. Bran stayed exactly where he was, watching the scene unfold. "Your Grace." The brother's both said.

"Thank you for your unyielding courage." The Queen smiled brightly.

"It is our honour, Your Grace." Renly bowed with a charming smile. "The traitor Ser Kevan is dead, and soon Casterly Rock shall be ours and the war will be over!"

"One war." Stannis said sternly. "We still must deal with Balon Greyjoy, but this war against the Lannister's is soon to be won."

Walda nodded. "I pray that the King does not take too long in returning."

"He shall want to be here for the birth, I am sure." Renly said politely. "Have you met my wife, Lady Margaery?"

Margaery walked over, and Stannis obviously took that as his cue to leave. He walked over towards Bran as the Queen and Margaery conversed. "You did very well, Brandon."

"Thank you, Lord Stannis." Bran bowed his head.

"You didn't run into any trouble, did you?" Stannis asked.

Bran shook his head. "All of their men were inside the city."

Stannis pursed his lips. "When the war in the West is over we will have a short time of peace I am sure, but we will need to prepare for an invasion of the Iron Islands again." He looked properly at Bran. "Your training will be increased to strategy as well as combat. If you are to one day be the Lord of Dragonstone, you should understand the complexities of war."

Bran's eyes lit up. "Thank you, My Lord."

Stannis nodded his head. "Now go and get some rest. We won't be celebrating until the King gets back, so we shall start your new lessons in the morning."

* * *

Under the cover of nightfall around a third of King Robert's forces used the Redwyne fleet to sail towards the small cave that led into the great castle. The rest of the men, including the King himself, were on land at the Lion's Mouth, making as much noise as they could to draw the defenders over there.

Torrhen was one of those chosen to lead the assault into the heart of the castle, along with Ser Barristan and Lord Loras Tyrell. They occupied the first boat with Balerion and a handful of Tyrell and Stark men, and they took the passage first as the rest of the invaders sailed into the cove.

They were walking for what seemed like ages, squeezing through narrow gaps until they came to a wooden covered area, and a ladder in the middle of it.

"The Imp was right." Loras whispered.

"The tower is likely guarded." Ser Barristan told them. "Stay here, I'll go up quietly and clear it. You work on a way to get the wolf up."

Torrhen nodded and watched as the elderly knight was the first to climb up the ladder, gently lifting up the hatch before hauling himself up. Torrhen and Loras waited for just a moment as they heard knife slashes and men gurgling blood before they worked on tying a sheet around the direwolf in order for the largest of the group, a Karstark soldier, to carry him on his back.

Ser Barristan soon popped his head down the hatch and gestured for them to follow him up. Loras went first, and Torrhen let most of the men that had gathered go up, including the one with Balerion on his back, before he joined them in the dark tower. Balerion was back on the floor when he got up, slightly grumpy from the roughness of the climb, but he soon looked at Torrhen and wagged his tail, baring his teeth expectantly.

"You all know the route." Ser Barristan said. "Work your way through to the main gates and open them for our forces."

Loras nodded. "With me." He commanded, withdrawing his sword and leading the men out.

"Go with him, Lord Torrhen." Barristan said calmly. "I have my own mission."

Torrhen looked to argue but clenched his teeth together and nodded. "Stay with Ser Barristan, Bal." He whispered, stroking the Direwolf on the head. "Good boy." He then withdrew Winter's Bite and raced after the steady stream of men exiting the guard tower.

They didn't face much opposition until the courtyard. Most of the defending Lannister soldiers were on the walls or in their barracks thankfully, so together the Reachmen and Northmen carved through the few hundred or so Lannister men that were in the way of the onrushing army. Torrhen was overwhelmingly thankful for the Valyrian Steel, as his lack of height was countered by the abnormally sharp and light blade carving through the Lannister army. He was one of the first to make it to the gate with Ser Loras, and soon enough they had enough men to lift the beam.

"LIFT!" Loras roared, and the dozen or so men all heaved the gigantic wooden beam up and away from the door, before they pulled the doors open and waited.

A loud roar came from the distance, and Torrhen could hear the thundering of hooves before a loud bell began ringing from within the castle. Grinning, he turned back towards the courtyard and flicked his wrist, swinging the sword in a full circle before he charged back into the fray.

* * *

The bells woke Jaime Lannister up. He hadn't got much sleep since Lannisport fell, but he was having a rather nice dream when all of a sudden the bells began to ring signalling an incoming assault. Swearing, he quickly called for a squire to help him into his Lannister armour and rushed towards the front gates.

His route took him through the Golden Gallery, one of the most expensive rooms inside the castle where House Lannister kept all sorts of treasures and artefacts. He knew everything in the room, although there was one object he wasn't expecting. Ser Barristan Selmy.

"Ser Jaime." The old knight said, almost sadly.

"Lord Commander." Jaime replied politely. "You seem to be in my home."

"The White Sword Tower is your home." Ser Barristan told him. "Or it was supposed to be, I suppose you preferred the Queen's chambers?"

Jaime bristled. "Lies…"

"Spare me, boy." Barristan snapped. "You betrayed your cloak and your King."

Some more Lannister men ran from behind Jaime, stopping beside him as they stared between the two Kingsguard knights. "Go. Defend the gates." Jaime ordered. "The old man is mine."

Ser Barristan let them pass, all the while his eyes never left Jaime. "Old man." He chuckled. "I suppose I am." He withdrew his sword. "And yet, even you have never bested me in a spar."

Jaime withdrew his own sword. "A spar is different to a duel, Ser, you know that."

"It's not too late. Come in quietly and I promise you, you shall be spared." Ser Barristan told the Lannister.

"My Father?" Jaime asked. "Cersei? Will they be spared?"

Barristan didn't move a muscle. "The King will decide their fates."

Jaime smirked darkly. "He will kill them as he will kill me. No, Ser. If I am to die, it shall be by the sword. But I cannot surrender my family to you."

Barristan sighed once and nodded. "Very well." He poised himself, ready to fight.

"For what it's worth, Ser." Jaime said before he flexed the fingers on his sword hand. "It has been an honour serving alongside you." And then he lunged.

* * *

Torrhen pulled Winter's Bite out of yet another Lannister man as the loyalist army tried forcing their way from the courtyard. The bells had awoken the thousands of Lannister men inside the castle, and there was barely any room to manoeuvre, but thankfully Torrhen's size gave him a bit of an advantage as he ducked through the oncoming Westermen.

Though he couldn't see much, he had seen enough of the battle as King Robert entered the fray. Surrounded by both Ser Arys and Ser Perwyn Frey, the Baratheon monarch was wielding his famed warhammer for the first time in years, and while he was still a stocky man, gone was the excessive flab that had consumed him in recent years, and muscle was starting to return, as the first Lannister man soon realised when he had his head flattened against the strong wooden doors leading into the castle.

Torrhen hadn't seen his Father yet, but he didn't get a chance to stop and look as he got swept up in battle fever, following Loras Tyrell's charge through the Lannister lines and pushing through the castle. The corridors quickly ran red with blood as men fell from all sides, and Torrhen was finding it hard to stay on his feet. He was barely thinking, just slashing and stabbing at any man in the red armour of Casterly Rock and hoping for the best.

All sense of time left him, and the next thing that Torrhen knew was forcing his way through a door and entering into a golden coated room. In the middle of the room Ser Barristan Selmy was furiously fighting with Jaime Lannister, the two so quick and so skilful that Torrhen and the rest of the Northmen and Reachmen with him just stood in awe for a moment. Neither of the Kingsguard knights could gain a foothold. First Jaime would be on the assault, pushing the elder Stormlander knight back until Ser Barristan did a move and then he was on the attack. It was scintillating to watch, and Torrhen knew at that moment that this was a duel that would live on in stories for centuries. He was brought back to reality once the opposite door opened and in streamed a large number of Lannister men, including Ser Ilyn Payne and Joffrey himself.

Torrhen growled like a wolf as he eyed Joffrey and he took a slow step forward. The men around him all rushed towards the new army, but Torrhen only had eyes for one man. His arm seemed to move on its own as he blocked a random sword and split the attacker's chest open, and again when he plunged his sword hilt deep into another man's heart. Three dead men later, he stood in front of Joffrey for the first time since King's Landing.

"Stark." Joffrey snarled.

"Waters." Torrhen countered.

Joffrey's eyes flared. "How dare you…" He held his sword shakily at Torrhen. "I'll gut you, you cunt!"

Torrhen didn't react, and the Lannister looking man to his left said. "My Prince…"

"No, Devan!" Joffrey cried. "This boy insulted me on my nameday, I will take his head myself!"

Loras Tyrell had joined Torrhen at that point. "Well, look what we have here." He smirked.

All 5 of them stood still for but a moment, when Joffrey made the first lunge. Torrhen blocked it easily enough, but Ser Ilyn Payne also came at the Stark and he proved a much different challenge. The Payne's greatsword was big, and Torrhen used all of his agility to duck under and dodge it.

He needn't have worried though, Balerion sprang out of nowhere and attached his jaws to the ugly mute's face and forcing him down on to the floor and spraying blood everywhere. The Direwolf snapped and snarled as he tore flesh and cartilage from Ser Ilyn's head and throat, soon leaving nothing but a red mess. Joffrey was aghast, and soon went to stab at the Direwolf, but his blow was blocked by Torrhen, who's nostrils were flaring in anger.

"You do not touch Balerion." Torrhen snarled in a low voice. "You do not look at Balerion. You do not think about Balerion."

"You… you don't tell me what to do." Joffrey stuttered.

Torrhen smirked. "No, I suppose I'll just kill you."

Torrhen swung his sword as hard as he could, but Joffrey blocked it. The Stark swung again, the force behind it pushing the bastard backwards. Torrhen noticed Loras slaying Devan Lannister in the corner of his eye but continued pushing forwards. He could feel Ser Ilyn's blood covering his face and dripping off his chin, but he didn't care, he just kept swinging and pushing the ill born Prince backwards until his back was against a wall. "Please." Joffrey begged, tears forming. "Don't kill me."

Torrhen was breathing heavily, and he glared at the boy Prince for a moment before he relaxed his shoulders and started to lower his sword, before he lashed out with a roar and thrust Winter's Bite through Joffrey's throat. Joffrey spluttered and coughed blood twice, before he slumped down dead.

Torrhen wrenched his sword out to the side, partially severing the head before he slashed back the other way to finish the job. He grabbed the head with his left hand and held it up in the air along with his sword as he turned around. "WINTERFELL!" He roared, louder than all the swords in the room, and with the head of Joffrey Waters still in his hand, he re-joined the fight.

In the middle of the large room the two Kingsguard knights were still fighting at breath-taking pace. Their swords and shields were battered as they continued to lash out at one another, though Torrhen only briefly glanced at them, preferring to brutalise his way through the Lannister ranks, all the pent-up anger and frustration from both of his lives coming to the forefront in one crazed moment.

It took Loras crossing swords with the Stark to calm him down. "Torrhen! TORRHEN!" The Tyrell cried, disarming the Stark easily enough. "It's over! The lower castle is ours!"

Torrhen was panting, but he looked around and saw that the Lannister soldiers were either dead or surrendering. "We won…" He panted. Balerion was quickly by his side, and the Direwolf gave Torrhen a hearty lick on the cheek. Torrhen looked over to see three Tyrell soldiers lying on top of Jaime Lannister, pinning him to the ground as somebody smacked the Lannister in the head to knock him out.

"Torrhen!" A voice called. Torrhen looked around the room not seeing where it came from. "Torrhen!"

He saw his Father soon enough; a large gash was on Ned's cheek, but he otherwise looked unharmed. "Father…" Torrhen whispered.

Ned crashed into him, hugging the boy tightly. "You're alright." Ned whispered. "You're alive."

"Is it over?" Torrhen asked.

Ned nodded, pulling away slightly to look into Torrhen's grey eyes. "Yes my boy, the King and Lord Edmure are leading the Rivermen further up into the castle. We'll have Tywin Lannister in chains in no time."

* * *

The last guards in the tallest tower of Casterly Rock fell to the ground with a thud with large dents in their skulls from the Warhammer of King Robert Baratheon. The King placed the handle of the hammer on the ground and wiped his brow with his spare. He turned around to see his two Kingsguard that had stuck with him throughout the entirety of the Battle of the Rock. Tens of thousands lay dead in the Lannister stronghold, but with the help of his white knights, King Robert remained among the living.

"Right." He said gruffly. "Let's get this over with."

Ser Perwyn nodded and began to bash the door to Tywin Lannister's chambers down. It took 5 strong kicks, but the lock eventually broke, and the door swung quickly, and Ser Perwyn had to immediately bring his shield up to his face to block a sword swing from the Lannister patriarch. Ser Arys rushed in as soon as it impacted the first time, and before Tywin had a chance to react his sword was on the floor and Arys had Tywin restrained.

Robert walked in slowly, smirking at the sight of Tywin being forced to his knees. He then saw his former wife, who began to scream and ran at him with a knife. Robert easily anticipated the action though, and gripped her wrist tightly, making her drop the knife, and he back handed her to the ground. "Stay there." He ordered sternly.

"You'll pay for this." Cersei snarled.

Robert ignored her, instead turning to Tywin Lannister. "Lord Tywin." He said formally. "Casterly Rock has fallen, its defender's dead or captured. You are now the prisoner of the crown." Tywin just glared back at him, and Robert continued. "You and your children shall be put on trial for treason, adultery and a whole manner of crimes."

"The only criminal here is you." Tywin spat. "House Lannister won you the Iron Throne, and you spit in our faces because your brother lied to gain power."

Robert would normally have grown angry at the taunts, but this campaign had made him question himself more than he had done in his entire life. "You still don't believe it, do you?" Robert said, amused. "Well believe it, Lord Tywin. Your children are fucking one another. Your grandchildren are not my seed. It seems we have both been deceived."

"Joffrey." Cersei said suddenly. "Where is Joffrey?"

Robert considered her for a moment, wondering how best to put it. He saw her, kneeling on the floor with her hair askew and realised that he honestly didn't care at all. "Last I heard his head was being waved around in one hand by the Stark boy as he fought with the other."

He watched as Cersei processed the information, tears forming in her eyes before they narrowed in rage. She got up and raced to Robert screaming as she moved, punching him in the chest as hard as she could, but through his armour he didn't feel a thing. He back handed her again and watched as she was thrown to the floor, before she curled up in a ball and began to wail.

It was a horrible noise, one that even Robert winced at. "Take them away." He ordered his Kingsguard, and while Tywin went with a little dignity, Ser Perwyn had to basically carry Cersei out of the room. Once there was a bit of peace and quiet, Robert rested his hammer against one of the stone walls and dropped into a sofa sighing heavily. He had beaten Tywin Lannister and become the first man to capture Casterly Rock in combat. A small chuckle escaped his lips, which then became a quiet laugh, which grew and grew until he had tears running down his cheeks from all the laughter.

* * *

**So the war is basically over! I didn't want to write two major battles, and while Bran is my only King's Landing POV he is still only 10 years old, so Renly would have kept him out of the fighting. On the other hand, Torrhen is right in the thick of it!**

**The inspiration for Torrhen in the Golden Gallery came from James 'Black' Douglas in the film Outlaw King. While writing I just imagined him caked in blood dripping down his face, and a feral look in his eyes.**

**Over in Essos, remember that Varys has disappeared, and that's why Dany basically arranged her own assassination. **

**I had fun writing Robert this chapter too, getting one over on the Lannisters was brilliant for him personally, and now he is free of them I'm sure he'll be a happier and better King.**

**I hope you enjoyed it all… it was a really long chapter to write because so much happened so please leave your thoughts in either a review or a PM, it's greatly appreciated. Next time won't be so big, but Casterly Rock will host the trials of all the Lannisters…**

**Reviews:**

**Lord Villarreal of house Grand: He's a talented warrior and a skilled tactician, with all of his past crimes the Watch does seem one of the best places for his character.**

**cokesmoke23: To some maybe, to others, especially with the coming war, it may show that Robert is planning to keep his best warriors where they are needed. The King has already executed a number of Lannisters while the main ones are shut away in Casterly Rock, so he isn't completely merciful.**

**InfinityMask: The battle took a toll on those still in the Red Keep, and Renly has a whole host. Stannis' plan was to recreate the 'Hammer and Anvil' but inside a city rather than on a field. I've planned to the very end, so I know EXACTLY what will happen to Robert, Stannis, Renly, Jon and Dany, all the major contenders for the Throne. Unfortunately though, that's extremely spoiler heavy so I won't say anything.**

**Chuck Moloney: As I said to InfinityMask, it's all planned out and they'll have their journey. All I will say is that Dany has already spent decades on the throne in her mind.**

**Rolling Mist 13: I'm enjoying Ned and Robert, it's always a relationship that gets cut short so to be able to play with them a bit is quite refreshing.**

**C.E.W: It was the other timeline Roose did the Red Wedding in, in this timeline he is pretty comfortable at the arrangement, and House Stark is strong. Torrhen definitely hasn't forgotten though and will never trust Roose Bolton or Walder Frey.**

**Lightningscar: It was a massive coincidence I know, but sometimes you need coincidences to move the plot along! **


	33. The Trials of Casterly Rock

**This chapter is definitely M rated, with a scene detailing disembowelment and 'quartering'. If you do not wish to read this then please do not read the scene after Jaime and Torrhen talk alone.**

**If anybody can catch the Lord of the Rings reference in this chapter, 50 points to your Hogwarts House! There are other references to films like Braveheart and real events from the 17****th**** century too, but they're a bit more obvious and I talk about them a bit later.**

**I own nothing but the OC's that aren't in the actual story, everything else is the property of George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

Cersei Lannister had been locked in her cell for days before the door opened and the man she had expected filled the entrance. She looked up at him in disgust, noticing the bright yellow leather gambeson with the black Baratheon stag emblazoned on it. He was also wearing black steel plate covering his shoulders and neck. It was not the full body armour that he wore into battle, however.

"Are you expecting a battle in the prison cells?" She asked him mockingly.

Robert just stared at her, judgingly. "You look like shit." He said bluntly.

Cersei scoffed. "You shoved me in here. Your Queen."

"No longer." Robert was quick to counter. "Your treason was grounds enough to have the entire marriage annulled. Even if the bastards were my own, which they are not, no brood of yours will ever sit the Iron Throne."

Cersei scowled. "Of course they aren't yours. Do you really think I would ever bring myself to carry any of yours to term?" She shook her head with a bitter laugh. "Never again I vowed."

Robert sighed, knowing what she meant. "The first babe."

"Damon." She spat, tears in her eyes. "His name was Damon." She laughed, getting to her feet from the rough bed that was in her cell. "It's funny, even after that I still felt something for you. But you preferred your wine and your whores, shaming me at every chance you got. Once I'd recovered and you forced your way back into my bed stinking of wine I swore to myself that my son would be a Lannister in every way."

"So you fucked your brother." Robert said in a low, angry tone.

"I fucked my brother." Cersei admitted it, there was no reason to deny it now. "He's thrice the man you'll ever be. We are one, Jaime and I. We were born together, and we shall die together too."

Robert's lips twitched for a moment, but they settled in the angry glare quickly. "Your Father will be judged first." He told her. "Then your brother, and then you. You'd do well to scrub up well." He sniffed before grimacing. "You smell like sheep shit."

"And then I suppose I'll be killed, like you killed my son." Cersei narrowed her eyes at him in pure rage.

"I didn't kill your bastard." Robert said calmly. "You should have kept him on a better leash, it seems he pissed off the wrong Stark."

"Of course, it's always a Stark." She laughed bitterly again. "First you whisper a dead girls name into my ear while inside me, and then you go running to them when things go wrong…"

"Go wrong?" Robert asked, his voice raising. "You cuckolded me, woman. I was your King and Husband and you committed treason against me, plotted behind my back."

"And now you've got a younger woman to disappoint." Cersei shrugged. "I pity the girl, having your fat body writhing on top of her."

Robert raised his hand again in outrage, ready to slap his former wife as hard as he could. He stopped himself at the apex of his swing however and lowered his hand. "You want to portray me as a monster." He began. "You want me to hit you so that you can show the world what an evil man I am, assaulting an imprisoned woman. Well no more, Cersei. You do not have that power over me any longer." He stared into her green eyes. "I am sorry for all the things that caused you to detest me so, I was a poor husband to you and a poorer King."

"Don't you dare do that." Cersei spat venomously. "You don't claim the moral high ground here, not after all you've done!"

Robert sighed. "I've done many a bad deed it's true, but my only treason was to protect my own life and my families." He paused, remembering Jon Arryn telling both him and Ned about the Mad King's declaration. "Yours was done out of spite and you've made a mockery of the crown." He turned and began to walk out of the cell, before he turned around in the doorway. "Your death will be extremely painful, make peace with that." And with that he walked away, hearing the cell door slam behind him as he went.

* * *

In a separate, more comfortable cell, Tywin Lannister sat at a desk wondering just exactly how it had gone wrong. The loyalist army had somehow come from within Casterly Rock and the fact that the old Lord didn't know how they had gotten into the great castle truly grated on him. His legacy was in pieces, he was the first Lannister to lose the Rock in its entire history, and the realisation of that angered him.

His door was unlocked, and Tywin turned around to see the tiny form of his son. "You survived." He said unhappily.

Tyrion nodded as the door closed behind him. "I did."

"How?" Tywin wondered.

Tyrion shrugged. "If it were just me I'm sure my head would have been flung over the walls of the Rock, but luckily I had the children with me."

"So they took mercy on you." Tywin snarled. "You surrendered to the enemy."

Tyrion laughed. "The enemy? We were fighting a losing battle right from the start!"

"We were betrayed." Tywin corrected the little Lannister. "Casterly Rock could have withstood a siege for decades, and in that time Kevan would have taken King's Landing. This war was winnable."

Tyrion shook his head. "No, Father." He handed the man a letter. "Kevan is dead. They executed him after Renly Baratheon brought a host down on him. He was caught between Stannis and Renly and the Golden Company began to flee."

Tywin's teeth clenched together in anger. "Sellswords." He snarled again.

"You lost." Tyrion added. "Accept that. Take the Black and you may still live."

Tywin stared at Tyrion as if he was an idiot. "You really think I'll serve at the edge of the world?"

"No." Tyrion shrugged. "But I thought I'd give you the option."

The cogs turned in Tywin's head. "You betrayed us. You gave them a route into the castle."

Tyrion nodded. "I did it to save Myrcella and Tommen. I did it to save Jaime's life."

"Jaime would rather die than serve at the Wall." Tywin boasted.

Tyrion shook his head. "He's agreed to it, Father. I spoke with him before you."

Tywin opened his mouth a couple of times, not knowing what he was going to say. "My children." He finally said, leaning back in his chair, defeated. "The whore, the fool and the traitor."

"So you admit it's true?" Tyrion asked quickly, ignoring the jibe at him. "About Jaime and Cersei?"

"Of course it's true." Tywin said bitterly. "I knew enough of Joffrey to know the signs, he was Aerys come again. And Joanna…" He trailed off as the memory of her returned for the first time in a long time. "Before she died, she warned me about them. I thought they were the delusions of a dying woman at the time."

"Then why fight?" Tyrion asked. "Why risk us all? Devan is dead. Stafford is dead. Myrielle was raped!" He was shouting by the end.

"I wasn't about to meekly surrender as my legacy crumbled around me." Tywin bit back. "You wouldn't understand, you're too soft."

"I'm soft?" Tyrion laughed, his eyes watering. "I was given the choice of death or betraying my family."

"And you should have died." Tywin spat. "It's my own fault I suppose, I wanted to drown you at birth, but I stopped myself."

Tyrion felt a tear drop down his cheek as the words sunk in. He closed his mouth tightly and nodded. "Very well." He said sternly. "I shall not see you again. I hope the ghosts of your past haunt you for eternity." And with that the dwarf turned on his heels and stormed out of the room, leaving Tywin to sink further into his seat as Joanna's face came into his mind once more.

* * *

_The Butcher of the Rock_. That is what they were all calling Torrhen. He had slept for the longest time after the battle was over, but the first time he awoke and walked about the Lannister stronghold he had heard the whispers. He had gotten on with it, ignoring the comments when he could, but he knew that it was a moniker that was going to stick.

He thought back to the list of the dead that had been compiled after the battle, the most notable for him and the North being Roger Ryswell, the heir to the Rills. Also dead on their side was a Ryger and one of the Vance's of Atranta, although he didn't know either of them personally.

The day of the trials had come, although Torrhen laughed at that. These were no trials, merely sentencing that made the King sound a lot more just. He groaned as he got out of bed, putting on his black Stark armour as usual and tying Winter's Bite to his waist before he left his temporary chambers to go to the main Lannister hall. As he arrived, he saw Robert standing by the old Lannister Throne talking to Ser Barristan Selmy, as well as his Father. He made his way over to Ned and sat down beside him.

"After today is done, we shall go home." Ned whispered to Torrhen.

"And stay there for a long time, I hope." Torrhen whispered back. He missed Mira, he hadn't heard from her since he left Moat Cailin all those months ago and he just wanted to hold her, he didn't want to be sat in the Lannister castle watching as these farces went on.

His mind was brought back into the room when the doors opened, and in came Tywin Lannister in chains. The sight was an odd one for Torrhen, the great Lord of the Reyne/Tarbeck rebellion being dragged into his own castle. Tywin was placed before the Throne, and Robert, now sat in the chair, leaned forwards.

"Tywin Lannister." The King's voice boomed. "You are here to answer for your crimes of treason. For failing to adhere to the commands of your King and rising up in open rebellion."

"What I did." Tywin said strongly. "Was nothing less than Jon Arryn did all those years ago. I was protecting the life of my own children."

Robert's eyes narrowed in anger. "Jon knew that the charges were unjust. In your case, the charges were in line with the law."

"Lies." Tywin spat. Torrhen groaned as he realised the man was still blind to the truth. "A lie fabricated by Lord Stannis Baratheon to grant himself more power."

Robert actually laughed aloud. "Stannis wanting power?" He laughed again. "There's more chance of your daughter being a maid than that." He chuckled again, before the King's face grew dark again. "No, these aren't lies. Your children lay with one another in the bed of King's and passed three bastards off as my own. Ned!" He called.

Ned stood up from beside Torrhen and cleared his throat. "Lord Arryn and Lord Stannis shared their concerns with me and provided the evidence." Ned told the room. "The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms show that every Baratheon and Lannister union has only ever produced Baratheon looking babes."

"All my bastards have my look. Every one of them." Robert admitted. "All Cersei's do not."

"Circumstance." Tywin protested. "Lord Stark, do all your children look like you?"

Ned shook his head. "But no Stark has had children with a Baratheon, we do not know the predominant House."

"And every Baratheon child has had the look." Robert countered. "Oh, and your daughter admitted her crimes to my face."

Murmurs swept across the hall as that news registered with Tywin. "She lied to me as well then, Your Grace." He said through clenched teeth.

Robert nodded. "You still rose up in rebellion and lost. I am not as patient as I once was, Lord Tywin, you have two options. Take the Black and serve the Night's Watch until your last day, or you can lose your head."

Gasps were heard throughout the room from those that didn't already know what was to happen. Torrhen stared at the old man intently, wondering what he was going to say. Tywin looked up and stared at the King intently. "I am an old man now, Your Grace, the cold would do me no good. Kill me if you must but remember who it was that won you your crown in the first place. Remember who it was that funded your frivolities."

Robert nodded, his face growing red with rage. He stood up, and all minor murmuring halted as the room fell silent. "Then I, Robert of the House Baratheon. First of my name. King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm do sentence you to die. Take him away."

Torrhen let out a relieved breath as the sentence was announced. He watched on as Ser Arys and Ser Perwyn led the Lannister out of the room, leaning back in his chair as he waited for the next trial to occur.

* * *

Next to be brought in was the Kingslayer himself, Jaime Lannister. Torrhen was more attentive here, as whilst he knew the King had promised to spare the knight, Robert was temperamental at the best of times. The Kingslayer looked miserable, his head was firmly looking downwards at his feet and his shoulders were slumped. The beginning of a beard had started to form on his face too, he was a far cry from the perfect knight he portrayed himself as.

"Jaime Lannister." Robert boomed again. "You are here to answer for your crimes of treason. For cuckolding the King you were sworn to protect and obey. For incest, and for passing off your bastards as my own. For the murder of Lord Jon Arryn." Jaime stayed silent. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"I did it." Jaime croaked quietly. "It's all true."

Robert was taken aback by how easy it was. "Your brother." He gestured to the dwarf of Lannister sat in the stands. "Has pleaded for your life to be spared, although I would much rather take your head for your betrayal and be done with it."

"Your Grace…" Tyrion began to protest, but a large hand being raised by Robert silenced him.

"You have every right to take my head." Jaime admitted.

Torrhen went to stand up at that point, but Ned stopped him. "What are you doing?" Ned whispered frantically.

"Saving the future." Torrhen whispered, more harshly than he intended. He rose to his feet and the attention was soon on him.

"Lord Torrhen." Robert greeted him formally. "You have something to say?"

"I do, Your Grace." Torrhen nodded. "I would argue for the Kingslayer's life to be spared."

Odd murmurs flew from the mouths of the gathered nobles. Torrhen saw Tyrion breathe a sigh of relief, as well as Loras Tyrell look at him aghast. Robert was also confused. "You wish to spare his life? You fought against one another…"

"I did, but I wasn't fighting him alone." Torrhen told him. "Many of you know my gifts, and while you may be disbelieving, the Old Gods have truly blessed me with visions. Some of the future, and some of the past." He said, remembering his experience on the Isle of Faces before he looked directly at Jaime, the Lannister's eyes filled with confusion. "I have seen the truth of what happened at the Sack of King's Landing, years before my own birth."

"Don't…" Jaime began.

"I saw the Mad King order his hand, the pyromancer Rossart, to light the barrels of wildfire beneath the city. 'Let him be King over charred bones and cooked meat.' The Mad King said. 'Let him be the King of ashes.'."

"What are you saying?" Robert asked.

"I'm saying that without Jaime Lannister stopping this order by killing the King and all of the senior pyromancers, the likelihood is that many people sitting here today would be dead." Torrhen stated firmly. "Including my Father, who was close to entering the city at the time."

"How could you know that?" Jaime said horrified. His eyes wide in fear.

Torrhen shrugged. "The Old Gods wanted me to know."

"Is this true, Ser Jaime?" Ned asked the Kingslayer. He had briefly known the story from Torrhen, but not in as much detail.

"It doesn't excuse my crimes." Jaime said, defeatedly.

"But it might lessen the sentence." Torrhen spoke firmly. He turned to Robert. "Your Grace, without this man you may have had trueborn heirs it's true, but you also might have lost your best friend, your city, and a lot of coin rebuilding King's Landing. His later crimes are still relevant and deserve punishment, but for his heroic actions in your rebellion against the Mad King, please spare his life."

A silence was felt in the room at that moment as Robert digested the information. He gulped the once and turned to the Kingslayer. "Is it true?"

Jaime looked like he was about to shake his head, but he caught a glimpse of Tyrion pleading silently and sighed. "He ordered me to murder my own Father, before he turned to the pyromancer Rossart and said as Lord Torrhen told you. Then he wouldn't stop saying 'Burn them all.'." Jaime shook his head as he was lost in the memory, the bitterness coming out in his tone. "'Burn them in their homes, burn them in their beds. Burn them all.' I killed the Pyromancer first outside the Throne Room, and then I went back to kill the Mad King, thrusting my sword through his back as he died saying the same three words, 'Burn them all.' I cut his throat to make sure, and then I just sat there until Lord Stark found me."

Ned looked almost ashamed at his actions after that point, but he kept his silence as Robert worked out what to do. "You did us all a great service back then, but as both you and Lord Torrhen have admitted, those actions don't negate your later crimes." Robert pursed his lips as he stood. "Ser Jaime Lannister." He used the man's true title. "I hereby sentence you to a lifetime of servitude at Castle Black. You are to take the vows of the Night's Watch and live out your days guarding the realms of men from what lies beyond."

Torrhen sighed a breath of relief as he sat back in his seat, a small smile on his lips. "I hope you know what you're doing." Ned whispered again.

Torrhen nodded. "Jaime is important. For us all to live, he must too."

* * *

After Torrhen being the centre of attention in the last trial, the last thing he wanted was for everybody to be staring at him again as Cersei Lannister was dragged in. That was what happened however, as the Lannister woman spotted him almost immediately and pointed at him. "MURDERER!" She screamed. "You killed your prince!"

"QUIET!" Robert yelled as she was put into place by the Kingsguard. "You've already admitted to me that Joffrey was no prince, but the ill-born spawn of you and your brother. This is but a formality. Cersei Lannister, you are charged with the crimes of treason, cuckolding your King and birthing illegitimate heirs. You are charged with incest, laying in the bed of King's with your own brother…"

"The Targaryen's did that there for years!" Cersei cried out.

Robert's eyes narrowed dangerously at the outburst, the mere mention of that family sending him into a rage. "You are no Valyrian." Was all he said, and Torrhen had to admit he was impressed at the King's ability to stay fairly reserved. "With that admission, all that is left to do is sentence you. While your Father fought a rebellion against me he was lied to by you into thinking his cause just. You are the reason so many men died for justice, and your punishment should be as severe as possible. You will die, Cersei Lannister, by hanging, drawing and quartering. Take her away."

Torrhen felt ill at the thought, and he watched on as Cersei screamed obscenities at the King as she was being dragged away kicking and flailing her arms around. Ned quickly stood up and walked around to his royal friend leaving the younger Stark sat there, finally happy to think that the whole ordeal was over, and he could rest for a while before the main war arrived.

* * *

Once Cersei's trial was over the sun was starting to set on the horizon of the aptly named Sunset Sea, and Torrhen made his way down to the cells to go and see the Kingslayer. Once he was inside he noticed Jaime curled up in one corner, staring at the walls.

"Is it done?" Jaime asked, broken.

Torrhen nodded. "Cersei and your Father will be executed at high noon tomorrow." He told the man.

Jaime wiped a tear from his eye. "You should have let me join them." He spat bitterly.

"You are far too important, Ser." Torrhen said formally. "You dying here dooms us all."

"What if I throw myself off the Wall when I get there?" Jaime asked.

Torrhen just chuckled. "You are far too prideful for that and we both know it. You wouldn't leave Tyrion alone with the guilt, he made the Wall an option, I just persuaded the King that it was the right one."

Jaime nodded. "You did, and I've been racking my mind as to why a Stark would do such a thing."

"There are more important things than inter house rivalry." Torrhen shrugged, going to the tiny, barred window in the cell and looking outwards at the sea. "The entire realm needs to band together now, for Winter is well and truly coming for all of us."

"Winter." Jaime scoffed.

"By that, I obviously mean the White Walker's." Torrhen said quickly, and Jaime barked out a laugh that didn't reach his eyes.

"You truly are mad up in the North." The Kingslayer mocked.

Torrhen shook his head, turning to face the man and leant back on the wall crossing his leg over the other. "No, just as I saw you in the Throne Room with Aerys, I saw what was coming. White Walker's and ice spiders, wights and giants and cold, the extreme cold." Torrhen was speaking fearfully now. "Even with all of our planning, nobody will be ready."

The tone frightened Jaime more than the words did. "How can it be real?" Jaime asked.

"Time is deadly." Torrhen shrugged. "Things that should never have been forgotten get lost and history becomes legend. Legends then become myths and myths get scoffed at as fantasy. They've always been out there, you didn't really think we built a wall across the entire continent just for Wildlings, did you?"

"I didn't think about it." Jaime admitted. "But why spare me? Why go to war now if we need to unite the realms as you say?"

Torrhen sighed, using a lie this time. "I saw another vision, of a world where your treason went unknown by the King. Jon Arryn still died investigating your bastards and my Father became Hand of the King, and his execution by Joffrey spiralled out of control tearing the land apart. By the time the Long Night came, we were barely ready. I sought to stop that by cutting out the main problem early, your sister and your Father."

Jaime grimaced. "And your visions are to be believed?"

Shrugging, Torrhen said. "Some are still sceptical, but my visions got us through the Golden Tooth." A rap on the door came then. "It seems I must go. We will meet again, Jaime Lannister."

And Torrhen left the Kingslayer alone in his cell, pondering upon every word that the Stark had said.

* * *

The sun was high in the sky in the main square of Lannisport as a large crowd gathered, waiting for the executions to take place. Torrhen looked around briefly, noticing multiple heads of Lords and other Nobles that had died on the Lannister's side in battle or been executed either side of the storming of the Rock. The Clegane brothers were both up there, Gregor being executed before the battle, and Sandor falling during. Daven and Stafford Lannister were also up there, as was a number of other blonde-haired men from somewhere in the family tree.

The Lord of the Causeway had his Direwolf by his side this time in the hastily erected box for the Lords and Nobles to attend, while the smallfolk and soldiers were gathered in their thousands down below them in the square. The two Lannister's hadn't been brought out yet, but the anticipation was building as the crowd chattered to one another.

Looking down at the platform Torrhen saw the execution tools all laid out. The block where Tywin was to die was a brand new one, fitting for the infamous Lord. The gallows were to one side of the block, no trap doors or barrels to make the death a quick one, and to the other side of the platform sat a table with a small number of tools and a flaming brazier beside it. It was going to be gruesome, but Torrhen couldn't help feeling how well deserved it was.

Suddenly a drumbeat could be heard, and the crowd fell silent. A carriage pulled up and Tywin and Cersei were both dragged out, the difference in their attires staggering. Tywin was resplendent, dressed in a pure black doublet and black trousers, the only colour being a red sash that was draped from his left shoulder to his right hip. Cersei meanwhile was in typical prisoner garbs, with a dull brown tunic, and her hair was tied up roughly. It was so far away that Torrhen couldn't really hear what was being said on the platform, but he didn't really want to hear, he just wanted to see it happen.

Tywin's final rites were read out to him before his outer layers were stripped and he was left in a fine red undershirt only, and then he was placed on the block, the block being so low down that the Lannister Lord was forced to lie prone rather than kneel, a final insult to his dignity. Moments later, the drumbeat stopped, and the axeman brought down the weapon and severed the old lion's head cleanly.

"That's one pain in my arse gone." Robert grumbled from beside Ned, who were also in the box with Torrhen.

"Are you sure you want to do this for Cersei, Robert?" Ned asked. "Get it done with cleanly…"

"No, Ned." Robert said, although Torrhen could tell his resolve was being tested as a crying Cersei was placed in position and the noose was being wrapped around her neck. "I've been lenient with the Kingslayer, but this is a statement to the entire realm. Treason will be met with the ferocity that my House is famous for."

Ned grimaced. "Very well."

The drumbeat had continued after Tywin's body was removed and his head spiked within view of the gallows, and it built up to a crescendo until it stopped suddenly, and two men hoisted the rope to raise Cersei up by the neck. Her legs had been bound together and her hands bound behind her waist, so her flails were symmetrical. Torrhen could hear the sounds she was making from where he was, but his face stayed stern. He watched her flailing around unable to breathe and all the atrocities from both of his lives were flashing through his mind.

Before the lack of air made Cersei lose consciousness, she was lowered down from the gallows. The woman staggered as her legs hit the wooden floor and she dropped to her knees, coughing and spluttering for air, although her punishment wasn't close to being over. Her legs and arms were unbound, and her dress cut off exposing the former Queen's naked flesh to the crowd. Torrhen heard a mix of cries, from "Mercy!" to "Gut the whore Queen!"

"I can't watch this." Ned muttered, and he turned away and left the box. Torrhen couldn't take his eyes off if it though, all of his rage at the Lannister from before he died coming to the forefront.

"It's a shame." Torrhen heard Robert mutter. "A body like that on such a vile woman."

Torrhen held in his snort of amusement, thinking that of course King Robert would only think of that. Focusing back on the execution, Torrhen saw Cersei being picked up and clamped down to the table with metal cuffs forcing her arms and legs to be spread. She tried struggling, but quickly gave up when she couldn't free herself.

The hooded executioner grabbed a blade and plunged it into Cersei's bare stomach, opening up the body as she cried out in agony. More cries of mercy were heard from the crowd, but the executioner ignored them all, pulling out the organs one by one and placing them into the brazier, burning them before Cersei's very eyes.

At some point, although Torrhen didn't know when, the former Queen stopped struggling, her life giving out from the shock of it all. The rest of the event was more muted after her death, as the executioner finished ripping out her internal organs and brought back his axe, putting an end to the proceedings by cutting off her head before quartering her body.

"What are you going to do with the body?" Torrhen eventually asked the King.

Robert sighed. "The head will go to King's Landing and placed on Traitor's Walk. The body will be put in the four corners of Lannisport as a reminder." He nodded at that before he took one last look at the platform and turned away.

Torrhen did the same, looking once more at the platform where two of his most hated enemies had just died. He couldn't find any regret or remorse inside him, and instead Torrhen left the platform with a satisfied smirk on his face, just eager to go back home.

* * *

**And there we have it, the War of Robert's Wrath is completed, and the Lannister's are completely decimated. War itself isn't over however, as there's still the matter of the Greyjoy's to deal with.**

**In medieval times, women weren't actually hung drawn and quartered as it was deemed as inappropriate to show their bodies. In Westeros however, I didn't really think that that was an issue. Her execution was drawn from the scene in Braveheart a bit, whilst Tywin's execution was inspired heavily by the execution of King Charles I, from the clothing worn to the low execution block.**

**There's a bit of a nod to the start of the story and Torrhen's adventure to the Isle of Faces too, as he states when he explains why he's so for saving Jaime. With Jon not at the Wall, maybe Jaime will be the one to step up?**

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter; it was a brutal one in the end I know. Let me know what you thought, and I shall be back soon with another one, where there's both a potential kinslaying, and a King grows closer to death…**

**Reviews:**

**spectre4hire: (17) While it's a show fic I mix and match bits from the books and show. Locations are always show based unless there's something major that they left out. Looks are also show based unless it's something the show physically couldn't do that's important to the story, like Dany's purple eyes or the Baratheon look being black haired blue eyed etc. So there's no Willas/Garlan because they weren't needed in the show and aren't majorly important to the overall story. (18) I appreciate the kind words, especially from an author I respect and enjoy stories from such as you! There will be some more time jumps in the middle of the story, a small one is coming in the next couple of chapters and a larger one a bit later. (19) I think plot armour is a must, especially in a story such as this. I mean Torrhen last chapter literally was a 13-year-old ploughing his way through an army… that being said it's still Game of Thrones, and anybody can die.**

**Guest (House Bolton): Except the Bolton's are allies tied to the Starks by marriage now, so why on earth would Torrhen kill his twin sister's family?**

**Chuck Maloney: The North especially will be well up for an assault on the Iron Islands…**

**C.E.W: Dorne are just isolationist, so they aren't an issue. The Iron Islands on the other hand are. Torrhen won't care about getting a knighthood, especially as he's basically the Old Gods chosen one.**

**Freakdogsflare: That would be epically cruel considering they're in the Lannisters home!**

**Guest (Tywin): He still went to war against his King, even if it was for good reason. Robert can't let him get off lightly, so the option was always going to be the same as for everybody else, death or the Wall. Tywin wouldn't choose the Wall though in a million years.**

**Rolling Mist 13: Thank you!**


	34. The Krakens

**There's less gore in this chapter than last thankfully! Although depending on injuries you hate there still may be something here that gets you…**

**I don't know if anybody has seen or not, but I've officially put The Golden Dragon on hiatus. 3 huge stories at once is a heck of a challenge and that's the one that I'm really not happy with the plan for it, so I'm going to focus on getting this one and No Mercy finished and really crack on and get a good latter story plan for that one before I upload there again.**

**Enough about that though, we have a Stark story to worry about! I own nothing but any OC's, everyone and everything else belong to George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

It was only after the slaughter that Jon realised he had just made his first kills. He had been ready to use his blade on Viserys back on the journey to Vaes Dothrak, but he had never actually killed a man until the slaughter of the Lhazareen village. Khal Drogo's Khalasar had met with a smaller one led by a Khal Ogo, and the two battled in the middle of the village, with the Lhazareen ending up as collateral damage.

"You did well." Jory Cassel said from behind him as the Khalasar rode out, onto the next village.

"I feel dirty." Jon admitted. "They were normal people."

Jory nodded. "Aye, but still…" He trailed off.

"This is not Westeros, Jon Snow." Ser Jorah was riding up to them from behind, followed by Daenerys on her Silver. "These people, this is their way of life."

Dany looked over at Jon. "Are you alright?" She asked, concerned.

Jon nodded, he hadn't taken any wounds from the battle thankfully. "Aye Khaleesi, I'm just struggling not to see his face, that's all."

"How is the Khal?" Jory asked the Targaryen Princess.

In the aftermath of battle, one of Khal Drogo's blood riders grew unhappy with Daenerys claiming all of the women for her own to save them from the rape that usually followed a Dothraki victory, and Drogo had ended up killing him, taking a small wound to the chest in the process. Jon had been impressed at the show from the Khal, defeating the blood rider without using his own weapons, but instead the man's own arakh after disarming him and cutting his throat, with Drogo pulling his tongue out through the neck wound. It reminded Jon that he never wanted to fight the man one on one.

Dany looked off into the distance. "It is a flesh wound, nothing more." She said simply. "The women of Lhazar suffered more than he did."

"You saved the witch." Jon noted. "Why?"

Dany turned to look at Jon inquisitively. "I saved all the women."

"But only after you saw her being led away." Jon had seen it all.

Dany smirked. "You're perceptive." She noted. She looked at her bags that were draped over Silver. "These eggs I have, do you know when the last one hatched?"

Jon nodded. "5 years before King Aegon III died." He remembered from his lessons with Maester Luwin, as well as from the reading of his Father's house that he had done on the journey across the Narrow Sea."

"And not one egg has hatched since." Dany noted. "There have been eggs of course and attempts to hatch them. But none have hatched since that day almost 150 years ago." She looked back at where the Lhazareen women were being herded behind them. "Don't you think a little magic may help?"

* * *

"THEY'RE COMING HOME! THEY'RE COMING HOME!"

Robb groaned as the shouting woke him up from his deep slumber. Wylla stirred next to him, unhappy at the awakening as well. The door burst open and Wylla made sure to cover her bare skin, and Robb sat up to see Arya bursting into the room. "Arya, we spoke about privacy. It's not just me in here anymore." Robb reminded her as if he hadn't been married for over a year already.

"I don't care!" She exclaimed happily. "Father and Torrhen are coming home!"

That was news to Robb, as the last he had heard Lannisport was yet to fall. Thankfully he had a loose pair of trousers on, so he got out of bed, allowing Wylla to wrap the covers tightly around her body. "Where did you hear this?" He asked her, grabbing a white undershirt to cover his bare chest.

"Mother got a letter from Father." Arya explained. "They won Robb! The Lannisters are dead!"

Robb laughed, surprised. "Is this true?"

"Why would I lie?" Arya asked defensively. "Of course it is! Tor sent one to Sansa too!"

Robb looked pleased at that and ruffled his little sister's hair. "I'll come down to the Great Hall in a moment for some breakfast, why don't we share the letters then?"

Arya nodded, running out of the room almost as quickly as she came into it. Robb closed the door behind her and turned with a wide grin on his face. Wylla relaxed the covers around her, getting out of bed to put a shift on. "It's really over?" Wylla asked, hopefully.

Robb shook his head. "There's still the Ironborn to deal with. They've been thrown off of our shores, but many Northerners want their revenge, myself included."

"Robb… we've just had a baby." Wylla reminded him. "Don't leave Beron."

Robb smiled sadly and walked over to his wife to kiss her forehead. "If I am tasked by Father to bring justice to the Ironborn I shall do so, My Lady. I owe them after Rillwater Crossing."

"You won that battle." Wylla said pointedly.

"And got injured in the process." Robb countered.

Wylla took a step back, looking at him disapprovingly. "We have that monster in the cells, along with Theon. Send Balon Greyjoy a couple of heads, or hands, or anything to ward him off. He can stay on his islands."

"It's not that simple." Robb sighed. "The King will want revenge, as will all of the North, and a Stark must lead them."

He kissed her again on the forehead before Wylla left for her own personal chambers so that they both could get changed for the day, and once Robb had tightened his boots he gestured to the snoozing Grey Wind to move, and the pair went down to the Great Hall, where Arya, Rickon and Robin were having their breakfast being overseen by Cat. Domeric and Sansa were at their own table.

"Where's Sara?" Robb asked.

"With her nursemaid." Cat replied. "She ate earlier."

Robb nodded, sitting down opposite her and spoke to one of the serving girls. "Some of the fish with some toast, if you will. And a small glass of ale."

"Milord." The woman bowed, departing.

Robb turned to his Mother. "I hear we're to be back to an almost full castle soon."

Cat smiled. "Luwin came to me in the night with the news."

"What did Father say?"

Cat handed him the raven message. It detailed the battle and the aftermath, while explaining that He and the Northmen were coming home that very day. "This must be two days old."

Cat nodded. "Likely they are at the Golden Tooth by now."

Robb then saw that there were instructions for him at the bottom. "We need to send ravens to the Lords and Ladies that we will combine the harvest feast with a celebratory feast to mark the end of the conflict with the West."

"I'll see to it." Cat responded.

"Add a note on the one to Ironrath that Mira should come to Winterfell as soon as she is able." Robb noted. "I'm sure Torrhen will want her to be here when he arrives."

Cat smiled knowingly and agreed to that with a nod as Robb's breakfast arrived. He began to tuck in quickly, all the while his mind was going over what was about to happen with the Ironborn.

* * *

Part of Bran's lessons had been to attend the Small Council meetings as the group's cupbearer. Instructed to stand in one corner and just to listen, he had taken to his new task with as much maturity as the youngster could muster.

He had gotten to know many of the people's names too. Sitting inside as an interim council were Stannis Baratheon, who lead the meeting, Renly Baratheon was in his old position as Master of Laws, but other than that this interim Small Council was entirely different to before the war. Ser Morton Waynwood, the heir to Ironoaks, was filling in as Master of Coin, although he seemed slightly out of his depth. There was no officially appointed Master of Whispers with the disappearance of the eunuch Varys, but Lady Olenna Tyrell had made her way to the Red Keep and was filling in for inside the castle, while Ser Davos Seaworth was bringing the whispers from the city, as well as filling in as Master of Ships. Also on the council as advisors were Lord Yohn Royce and the recently arrived Ser Stevron Frey, who was representing the Queen. Also on the council was the new Grand Maester, Gormon Tyrell.

The meeting was coming to a close as the group spoke about the repairs to the city and preparations to send a force to meet the Ironborn. "All repairs to the fleet have been made." Ser Davos was telling them all. "The ships that remain will be ready to set sail again as soon as they are supplied."

"Good news." Renly nodded. "Good work, Davos."

"Ser." Stannis corrected. "I knighted Ser Davos myself, remember."

Renly bowed with a grin on his face. "How could I forget."

"We did receive a raven from Casterly Rock in the early hours, Lord Stannis." Gormon Tyrell told the Baratheon. "From His Grace."

Stannis glared at the Grand Maester. "Why not lead with that?" He asked. Tyrell apologised silently and handed the raven letter to Stannis, who broke the seal and read the note. "The battle in the West is won. Tywin Lannister and Cersei Lannister have been executed. The Kingslayer is on his way to the Wall, and Lord Tyrion has been sworn in as Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West. Ser Kevan's twin sons have been taken as hostages, with Martyn Lannister going to Highgarden and Willem Lannister going to Winterfell."

"Ah, wonderful." Olenna murmured. "A lion in my castle."

"One of the better ones, by all accounts." Morton Waynwood noted.

Olenna eyed the man up. "Perhaps you would like to take him instead?"

Stannis looked at her sternly. "That is the King's command, and you shall obey it Lady Olenna."

Olenna smiled. "But of course."

Renly took the letter from Stannis and flicked through it. "He's also named you Hand of the King brother, did you not get to that part?"

"I didn't want to cause a scene." Stannis said quietly, and Bran thought there was a little hint of embarrassment on his face. "No matter, he has also charged me with preparing to bring him back Balon Greyjoy in chains to face the King's judgement, so I shan't be here for long."

Gormon Tyrell reached into his robes and pulled out the pin that signified the Hand of the King and handed it to Stannis. "Congratulations, My Lord."

The sentiment swept around the room from all inside it, and Stannis nodded firmly. "Unless there is anything else?"

No new points were raised, and so the Small Council began filtering out, with Renly clapping Stannis on the back as the younger man departed. Stannis put his hands on the table and leant on them, letting out a sigh. Bran stepped forwards then. "Does this mean we will be going to the Iron Islands, Lord Stannis?" He asked.

Stannis looked at the young Stark. "We will. You can go now, Brandon, but tomorrow I want you to join me on the _Fury_ at dawn, and I will instruct you on what I know about naval warfare."

"My Lord." Bran bowed his head, eager to get to the next day. He walked slowly out of the Small Council chamber before running gleefully out of the Throne Room, rushing to get to the training yard for another lesson.

* * *

As dusk began to fall on the North and the summer snows had stopped, leaving a light dusting on the ground, Robb took the meal that was meant for his old friend down to the dungeons. He walked down the corridor that housed both Greyjoy men currently appreciating the hospitality of Winterfell, passing by Victarion Greyjoy's cell and stopping by Theon's. The door opened and Robb stepped in to see Theon on the bed. The Greyjoy heir sat upright quickly, looking at him.

"Robb…" The man whispered.

Robb placed the tray down on the small desk in the cell and turned towards Theon sternly. "The Ironborn have been beaten back from the North." He replied coldly. "Soon we will be on our way to Pyke to raze the castle and kill your Father."

Theon gulped, but nodded. "As is your right." He said solemnly.

"You don't approve?" Robb asked, an eyebrow raised. "I'm sue if you saw the devastation your family has brought on the coastal villages you'd change your mind."

"I approve." Theon said quickly. "I just wish I could have done something, helped you in some way. I could have got him to stop…"

Robb barked out a bitter laugh. "I know exactly what would have happened had you have contacted your Father. You would have been insulted by him treating you as a Greenlander as he calls us. He would belittle your clothing, your arrogance, and he would have encouraged you to attack us to please him."

"No." Theon whispered. "I would never betray you."

"Why not?" Robb asked. "You're a hostage after all, you always have been."

Theon stood up, his eyes darkening in anger. "But I was still your friend." He said firmly. "That hasn't changed." He sighed. "I remember Pyke, not very well but I remember it. My Father was bitter, he wanted a crown and he didn't care how he got it. He got my brothers killed with his folly, and now he has rebelled again knowing it would mean my death." He spat on the ground. "Lord Stark has been more of a Father to me than he ever has."

Robb looked at him in surprise, ignoring the banging on the walls from the next cell. "The North will never trust a Greyjoy, I hope you realise that."

Theon nodded. "I know."

Sighing, Robb walked forward and gripped Theon's shoulder tightly. "Have a think about your loyalties, Theon. Have a think about who cares and who doesn't. If you choose your blood then so be it I wouldn't blame you for that. But with your name now comes certain consequences that were not there before. King Robert wants your Father dead and won't care how many heads he collects in the process."

"You all treated me as family, even though I wasn't." Theon said, the realisation of his choice sinking in. "I will always appreciate that."

Robb smiled. "Have a think." Was all he said before he turned around and walked back out of the cell door, hoping that his friend made the tough decision that would spare his life.

* * *

There was just sand for as far as the eye could see. They were travelling Southwards to find more villages to plunder, although Jon and Jory were again towards the back of the Khalasar while Daenerys was at the front with Ser Jorah. It was a slow and boring ride, and Jon could tell that Ghost was getting agitated with all of the walking.

Suddenly they stopped. "What's going on?" Jon asked. "We should be riding for a few hours more at least.

Jory shrugged, and the Northmen waited for a few minutes until the news filtered through that the Khal had ordered them to stop.

They set their tents up before going to find Daenerys or Jorah. It was mid-afternoon when Jorah found them and brought them towards the main tent. Inside Jon was shocked to see the Khal lying on his back weakly, a poultice on his wound. Dany was behind his head, cooling the Khal down with a wet cloth. "What happened?" Jon asked.

"He fell." Jorah answered honestly. "He won't last the night."

"Fuck." Jory swore. "What happens now?"

Jorah looked around. "Gather your Northmen and the Direwolf, we shall slip out at sundown and head for Asshai…"

"We will do no such thing, Jorah." Dany said firmly yet calmly, not looking away from Drogo.

"Khaleesi…" Jorah begged. "When the Khal dies…"

"I know what happens, Jorah." Dany said with a dreamy voice. "But that is not what is destined to happen."

"What happens?" Jon asked.

Jorah sighed. "When the Khal dies everyone will start fighting for the right to be the new Khal, and after all of that is done they won't want any challengers. They will keep the Khaleesi a hostage and wait for the babe to be born before feeding it to the dogs."

Jon grew angry at the thought. "I won't let them." He growled, his hand on his sword pommel.

Dany smiled sadly up at them. "They won't get the chance." She told them, standing up. She looked between the three men in the tent. "Do you trust me, all of you?"

Jorah nodded immediately, while Jory looked at Jon, who nodded the once briefly. "Aye, I do."

"Then I do to." Jory said.

Dany smiled. "Then trust that what I am about to do is for the good of all mankind." She told them all. "Gather your men and arm yourselves. I want you all standing guard outside the tent." The tent opened up and the Lhazareen witch came in. "Go." Dany insisted.

Jon nodded, and led the three Northman out of the tent whilst wondering what Dany was so worried about that required their armour.

* * *

Robb loved the time he got to spend later on in the day, between his dinner and the time he usually went to bed, where he could relax a little more and spend time with his son. Little Beron was half a year old now and growing quickly. His first tooth was starting to show however, so the baby was grumpier than usual.

As Robb was holding Beron about to put him in his cot a knock on the door came, and in came Wylla who looked over and smiled at the sight. "I was just putting him down." Robb said quietly, not wanting to disturb Beron's snoozing. He placed Beron gently into the cot and tucked him up.

"I know you like to watch him drift off properly." Wylla said just as quietly. "But there's been an incident." Robb looked at her, alarmed, when a wet nurse came into the room to sit with Beron. Sighing, he put his thick cloak back on over his shoulders and tied it together, so it stayed up.

"Stay, Grey Wind. Protect Beron." He bid his Direwolf, and he began to walk with Wylla as she explained what had happened. "I don't know how it started, but I was with the cooks going over our stores when a guard came running through saying there had been a breakout."

"Theon?" Robb asked immediately, almost hopefully.

Wylla shook her head, and Robb's hand went to his sword at the thought of Victarion loose in the castle. "He's been subdued." Wylla said quickly, easing Robb's worry. "But… well your Mother bid me to get you."

They stormed down towards the Great Hall where a small crowd of guards had gathered in a circle, swords and crossbows all trained at the kneeling Victarion Greyjoy, his arms had been rebound and an arrow was sticking out of his shoulder. Cat and Arya were there too, as well as a snarling Nymeria. He made his way over to his family, before noticing that Arya had a bow in her hands. "What happened?" He demanded to know.

"He broke out of his cell." Arya pointed the bow at Victarion.

"I can see that." Robb rolled his eyes. "The full story. Now!" He barked at the entire room.

Cat placed her hand on Robb's chest. "Calm yourself Robb." She said soothingly.

"Milord." One of the guards said from behind him. Robb turned to see the man was bloodied in the face with a gash.

"Brynan." Robb greeted.

"The squid here broke out as he was getting his supper, stole some keys and went to the next cell." The guard Brynan answered. "He killed the other men on the door and broke in, beating on Theon."

"Traitor." Victarion snarled, only for Nymeria to growl louder, her teeth bared as she moved closer.

"Continue." Robb commanded, his face dark.

Brynan nodded. "Well we got there in time, but Theon, he's in a bad way milord. We dragged him off of the boy, but he'd got a knife you see, I got me face slashed but Harwin and Norren…" He trailed off, anger hitting the guard. "Well he got away and ran for it. I tried giving chase, but I only had one hand you see, trying to keep this from bleedin'."

"He ran into the courtyard." Arya picked up the story. "I was with Nymeria practicing." She held up the bow. "When I saw him and Brynan giving chase. So I shot him."

Robb smirked in surprise. "You shot him?" He asked for clarification.

Arya looked offended. "I have been practicing!" She cried. "I got him, only I wasn't aiming for his shoulder…" She trailed off.

"Milady got him just right." Brynan said, nodding. "I piled on top of him and the rest of us managed to get the knife and contain him."

"Luwin is with Theon now." Cat explained. "But we knew you needed to be here to say what we should do with him." She nodded towards Victarion.

Victarion grinned, although he was still in pain. "You ain't got the balls to kill me, pup."

Robb took a deep breath, a glare on his face as he stepped forwards towards Victarion Greyjoy, his hand on his pommel. "It would be the just thing to do, you killed men of the North, you tried to become a kinslayer. That's a crime the gods won't forgive."

"Nothing happens to Kinslayers." Victarion mumbled bitterly.

"You're a strong man, an excellent warrior." Robb noted. "And in the coming war we need all the strength we can get."

"I ain't fighting my own people." Victarion spat.

Robb shook his head. "No you aren't." He agreed. "They don't need your help to die. No, you're going North, Greyjoy. You will take the vows of the Night's Watch and man the Wall against whatever is coming for us."

Victarion laughed. "I'd rather die." He spat again.

Robb smirked. "Which is why it's the perfect punishment. You either serve or take the cowards way out and die by your own hand." He knew he was pushing his luck now, but Robb felt brave when the man was forcibly on his knees before him. "Brynan. See that he is put in one of our more, suitable, cells for the night. Tomorrow he will be escorted to Castle Black."

Brynan grinned. "Aye, Lord Robb. I know just the one." Victarion was hoisted up by force. "Come on you, you'll be in luxury tonight." The man laughed.

The guards filtered out escorting Victarion so no repeat could happen, and Robb moved to fall down into his Father's lordly chair as he breathed in relief. Wylla came beside him and started massaging his shoulders, while Cat just looked worried. "Is it wise? Sending him there?"

Robb nodded. "If we didn't know what was coming I'd behead him myself, but he's a capable warrior. If he accepts his fate and does his job, he'll be a valuable asset to the Watch."

"What's coming?" Arya asked. Robb looked at Cat alarmed, forgetting that Arya didn't know.

"Never you mind." Cat said chastising her daughter.

Arya looked at Robb. "What's coming?" Arya asked again impatiently.

"Listen to Mother." Robb told his sister. "And keep practicing. You're not going to be much use if you can only hit a shoulder every time."

Arya scowled, before she smirked. "I'll show you!" She exclaimed, sticking her tongue out at Robb. "Come Nymeria! To the training yard!"

The Direwolf bounded after her mistress, and Robb smirked as Arya left the room too, passing by Maester Luwin, his robes dotted with blood. "Maester." Robb greeted, gently pushing Wylla away and sitting up straight.

"He will live." Luwin said quickly, not wanting to keep them in suspense. "His face is more bruised than the time Torrhen took a disliking to it and his nose is broken again, but that's not the worst of it."

"Tell us." Wylla said, her hand resting on Robb's shoulder.

Luwin sighed. "His arm is badly broken in multiple places. Parts of the bone in his lower arm have pushed through muscle and skin. I fear that we may have to take the arm."

Robb sighed, his left hand rubbing his forehead. "Is there no way to save it?"

Luwin shook his head. "Any attempt will most likely lead to infection. Best to take it now before it is too late."

"Then do it and may both he and the Gods forgive me." Robb told the Maester. Luwin bowed and left the room again to get to work. "This is my fault." He sighed. "If I hadn't have seen him earlier…"

"You didn't make Victarion Greyjoy do that." Cat stopped him quickly.

Robb nodded. "You're right." He told her with a sad smile. His face then grew sterner, and his voice went deeper and lordlier. "Let it be known that Theon's family have forsaken him. Tonight's attack has shown us that House Greyjoy have disinherited Theon Greyjoy. He's one of us now."

Cat looked at him. "Are you sure you want to do this?" She asked quietly.

Robb nodded, and he realised Wylla was still there so chose his words carefully. "Torrhen's dreams showed me enough mistakes that I could make. I will not abandon my friend again. So long as I am heir, or Lord of Winterfell, Theon shall have a place here."

* * *

**Not any Torrhen here I know, but at the moment he's just travelling and will be for some time, so it gives me a chance to wrap up Season 1 with the other Stark's. Actually in the chapter however, we have the North and King's Landing preparing for another invasion of the Iron Islands… this time though it won't be Robert in charge but Stannis, so you can guarantee that there won't be any leniency. **

**Also in the North we have a bit of a conclusion for Theon and his personality dilemma. I think this is a lot better than my original idea of Robb forcing them to fight one another to the death as that just seemed out of character when I went back to it, and I'm pleased with how it turned out. Victarion is a dumb brute, but a strong one, so his plans while limited got him to batter Theon. **

**Bran is also pretty much shadowing Stannis at every opportunity he can now, which will only be good for his development. He's still young, but he's growing and learning every chapter.**

**And finally I added a bit of the Essos storyline, just to show where we are in relation to the wider story. I realised while writing that Jon hadn't actually killed anyone as of yet in the story, so the battle in Lhazar was a good time to change that. It's more of the book battle adding in another Khalasar, but oh well we only see the aftermath in the show.**

**I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. A review with your thoughts whether a single sentence or a mini essay is always appreciated just as equally! Next time: Dany sacrifices both her husband and her child, while in Winterfell a surprise is waiting for Torrhen.**

**Reviews:**

**Chapter 21:**

**spectre4hire: The pitfalls of being behind I guess, but I tend to do this until the story is completed. Torrhen named the direwolves as they were in the other time, they're real to him so he can't justify changing their names.**

**Chapter 33:**

**Magi Tail Welkin: You're spot on!**

**Guest (Sandor): He's Joffrey's personal guard, for Joffrey to fall in battle Sandor had too as well.**

**Freakdogsflare: Body parts of one of the ladies of the massive castle overlooking Lannisport would be more terrifying for the smallfolk of Lannisport in my eyes… as well as a huge message for all the nobles.**

**Masso 2010: Thanks!**

**Black Magic99: This chapter is my equivalent of Episode 8, just pushing into Episode 9 with the last Jon scene. You'll know roughly where we are in relation to the show with his scenes.**

**Rolling Mist 13: I don't even think he liked letting Jaime go, but in order to end the war and with Torrhen, a kid he really likes, being all mystic about it he gave in. **

**Lamreal: Thanks! I hope you enjoyed this one too.**


	35. The Dragon Queen

**The title may give the main theme of this chapter away so I'm going to keep this one brief and let you get into an important chapter for the Essos plotline…**

**Here is another reminder that bold speech is Dothraki, and that ****I own nothing but any OC's and everything recognisable belongs to either HBO or George R R Martin.**

* * *

The noises from inside the tent haunted Jon through to his bones. The screeching and wailing were not from this world, and the Dothraki gathered around the tent were watching on, both confused and fearful. Jon, Jorah, Jory and the other two Northmen that had travelled to Pentos and beyond with Jon and stayed with the Khalasar, Rickard and Desmond, all stood in the open space between the tent and the crowd, while Ghost lay down just outside the entranceway. Everyone was silent, listening as the horse that had been taken into the tent cried its last cries, and Jon turned to see Daenerys stagger out, blood covering her clothes and her face.

The Dothraki crowd staggered backwards away from her as the Targaryen got adjusted to the bright sunlight quickly. Jorah went over to her, fear in the old Knight's eyes too. "What have you done?" He asked.

"What was necessary." Dany told him, but her voice was shaky. She grunted, her hands going to her belly. Jorah noticed this and guided her away towards Rakharo as the shrieks grew more alien.

Jon was breathing heavily, his hand on his pommel in anticipation, which turned out to be handy when Qotho, one of Drogo's bloodriders, pushed his way to the front of the crowd.

"**This cannot be**." He said in Dothraki. "**This cannot be**."

"**This must be**." Dany replied, her voice weak.

Qotho stared at the blood-stained Daenerys with pure rage in his eyes. "**Witch**." He accused.

Rakharo placed his hand on Qotho's shoulder from behind to stop him from going further. "**Nothing good will come of this**." Rakharo warned. Qotho didn't respond, instead he threw his elbow back and caught Rakharo in the face.

"**No**!" Dany cried, pushing away from Jorah and towards Qotho, but the Dothraki bloodrider swatter her aside with ease, and Dany fell forwards on her belly.

Jon immediately withdrew his sword as Qotho walked past Jorah, and the other Northmen did the same, blocking the path into the tent. "**No further**." Jon warned.

Qotho snorted in amusement. "**Put your blade away, little man**." He said snidely.

Jon just shook his head. "**No further**." He repeated. The tension was ramping up as the voices from inside the tent grew louder and Dany groaned in agony. Qotho just looked even more angry and flexed his Arakh in his hand before lunging out. Jon swatted it aside as his men began to circle the Dothraki bloodrider. Qotho wasn't so important to Drogo for nothing however, he deflected Desmond's strike and swiftly guided his Arakh deep into Rickard's midriff, pulling it out forcefully and spilling both blood and guts on the floor. Jon grimaced, lunging himself only for Qotho to parry, kicking out at Jon and sending him to the floor.

Jon got back up to see Desmond's neck had been opened by the dangerous Dothraki, his chest was aching, but he was determined to not let Dany down. He swung again with pace, laying a barrage of attacks on Qotho. Jory was doing the same, ducking and weaving around the quick swings of Qotho but unable to get in any wounds of his own making.

Jon was knocked back and winded again from a blow to his face and spat out blood to see that Qotho had turned them around and was in between the Northmen and the tent. Qotho smirked and backed towards the tent, making sure that none of them were going to make any sudden moves. What he had forgotten however, was the Direwolf in the doorway. Ghost snarled, startling the Dothraki and making him turn towards the tent, and Ghost jumped up, latching his teeth around the Dothraki's sword arm. The Arakh clattered to the floor and Qotho screamed in agony, pounding the Direwolf's back to try and get him off. Ghost wouldn't budge though, so Qotho went for one of his other blades strapped to his hip. He never got them out of his sheath though, as Jon was quick to rush towards the Dothraki and in two quick movements, he severed both Qotho's spare hand and his head.

Panting, Jon went over to pet Ghost, who at the death returned to his position in front of the tent. Jon turned around and saw Jory stand beside him, the elder Northman panting too. "**Nobody enters**." Jon stated loudly. He saw Jorah pick Dany up in his arms, the Targaryen woman still groaning in agony. The Mormont walked towards Jon, making the younger man uneasy. "Nobody is to go in." He said as firmly as he could.

"Stand aside, Jon." Jorah said, not unkindly.

"The baby…" Dany moaned in pain. "He's coming."

"The only people that will help her are inside." Jorah told him.

Jon stood still for a moment, not sure what to do, when Dany cried out in pain. Nodding, Jon stepped aside to let Jorah enter the tent, and both him and Jory stayed put with their swords out to ensure that nobody else went in.

* * *

The Northmen were camped underneath the thickly forested hill that once housed the magnificent castle that claimed rule over the entire Riverlands. Now however it was just an overgrown ruin, with the curtain walls at the top of the large hill barely reaching Torrhen's waist, whereas before they fell into ruin Torrhen imagined them as being 40 feet high and strong as anything.

They were only staying for the night, with everyone eager to be back in the North as quickly as possible, although Torrhen found himself unable to sleep. He closed his eyes and felt his mind rush out of his body, and suddenly when he opened his eyes again he was tucking into a fawn that had had the misfortune of meeting Balerion.

After finishing his meal, Torrhen bounded further up the hill, hoping to find the only part of the castle that was still intact. On the ground you could just about tell where the walls had been, and Torrhen walked Balerion over towards the sepulchre of the greatest King of the Rivers and the Hills that history had documented, King Tristifer IV Mudd. The stone was cracking and crumbling in the corners, but the white marble was still relatively intact.

A snapped branch quickly gained Balerion's attention as his ears went up so that he could hear properly. It was so late at night that Torrhen thought everyone was in their tents getting some rest. Going to investigate, Balerion rose up and down the mossy hummocks that remained of the keep and went into the Godswood.

In amongst the giant oak trees that stole all the light even during the day sat Ned Stark, staring down at a large white tree stump. Torrhen moved the Direwolf over to stand beside Ned, and the Stark patriarch took one glance at Balerion.

"I suppose that's you in his skin, Torrhen?" He murmured gently. "Join me, if you cannot rest."

Torrhen nodded Balerion's head before he returned to his own skin. He put his black leather armour on again and tied Winter's Bite to his hip before departing up the hill, reaching the Godswood minutes later to find that Ned hadn't moved and Balerion had decided to lie down.

"There are far too many stumps in the South." Ned commented.

Torrhen nodded. "Aye, I'll be forever grateful to our ancestors for stopping the Andals." He breathed out a light laugh. "If the histories are right, the greatest First Men Kings of the Riverlands were destroyed by a Vance."

"The histories throw up all sorts of moments like that." Ned admitted. "Now House Vance is split into two, thanks to yet another war."

Torrhen knelt down by the Weirwood tree and closed his eyes as he held his hand out on the stump. He stayed there for a minute before shaking his head. "Nothing."

"Were you expecting anything?" Ned asked.

Torrhen shook his head. "I'm just a conduit, I can't control what I see as Bran could, before." He told Ned before sighing. "I wonder if I've ruined his life by making sure he didn't become the Three Eyed Raven."

Ned knelt beside Torrhen, looking at his son. "You saved his legs. That can never be a bad thing."

Torrhen wished he was as confident. "He can have his wish and be a knight of course, but what happens if he dies at sea against the Ironborn? That's on me."

"No." Ned said firmly. "If the Gods will that to happen then that's on them. But I have faith, Torrhen. You were brought back for a reason more than just preparing Westeros for a battle against the White Walkers. Look at the difference you have made already, I'm still here. Winterfell is stronger than ever, the North is more united now than at any point since the Andal invasion." Ned placed an arm on Torrhen's shoulder. "You have done so much good already."

"I slaughtered innocents." Torrhen said bitterly. "You hear what they call me now."

Ned sighed, nodding. "Battle fever claims us all differently." He explained. "Did I ever tell you about the Battle of the Bells?"

Torrhen shook his head. "You rarely speak about your own actions in the Rebellion, only the King's."

Ned stared at the Weirwood stump as he spoke. "It was a dark time. Robert had lost at Ashford and we hadn't heard from him in weeks. We had the biggest army gathered at that point in the war yet no idea what to do with it. My Father was dead, my brother was dead and for all I knew my sister was dead. I was angrier than I have ever been, before or since, and as soon as we heard tales of Jon Connington searching in the Stoney Sept we marched quickly." He sighed at the memories. "Jon, your Grandfather and I each took our men to separate parts of the walls to assault them quickly and hundreds died. The Northmen took the East Gate and as luck would have it that was the closest to the brothel Robert was hiding in. We defended it until Robert could get his armour on and then we swept through the town, slaughtering any Targaryen loyalist we could find. I must have killed dozens myself that day."

Torrhen saw that his Father looked mournful at the needless loss of life. "You did your duty." He said quietly.

"Aye." Ned nodded. "As did you. So what if they give you a nickname that scares you? When tales spread it will scare others too. Robert may have won allies with his charm and his humour, but he won his throne with blood and steel. The Demon of the Trident won that war in the end, not Robert Baratheon."

Torrhen nodded. "It just feels… I don't know, strange." He admitted. "I'm no butcher, that was just over a decade of pain being forced out into my sword arm."

Ned smiled sadly. "You did your duty." He repeated. "And we will have to do so again before we can rest easily. We'll need both your sword, and your abilities." Ned looked at Balerion. "It's easier now, isn't it?"

Torrhen nodded. "I guess he bled into me during the battle and helped me go feral." He shrugged. "That opened up the link more than any amount of force from me could have."

"He likely saved your life." Ned suggested. "Your mind may be older, Tor, but your body is still young."

"Don't I know it." Torrhen grumbled, causing Ned to laugh.

"Come on." Ned said, getting to his feet. "We better at least try and get some rest, unless you want to spend more time at the Twins than we need to."

That was all the motivation Torrhen needed as he leapt to his feet. "Come on Bal." He said to the black furred Direwolf, turning away from the Weirwood stump and walking back down the hill to the camp with his Father.

* * *

After the attack, Robb had seen it fitting to bring Theon back into his old chambers inside the Great Keep and made sure that he constantly had someone outside his rooms at all times in case the Greyjoy man needed anything. A couple of days after the attack, Robb went to go and visit Theon. He was sat on his bed in his night clothes just staring at the stump that should have been the rest of his left arm.

"How are you?" Robb asked, internally kicking himself at the stupid. "I mean…" He trailed off.

"I'm alive." Theon muttered. "That's what matters most."

Robb nodded, pulling out a chair to sit beside his friend. "I'm sorry. I truly am." He said.

Theon shook his head. "This isn't on you. This is on my fucked up family. This is on my father for rebelling both times, it's on Victarion for being such an idiot. It's on me for being weak…"

"You're not weak." Robb said quickly.

Theon scoffed. "If I wasn't maybe I could have fought back. Now what use am I?" He sighed. "You should slit my throat and be done with it."

Robb shook his head fiercely. "No." He told Theon. "No, you have more use than you think."

Theon waved his stump at Robb. "How? I have one hand."

"There's a smith at Castle Black with one hand." Robb countered.

"I'm not going up there." Theon muttered darkly.

"No…" Robb trailed. "That's not my point. I'm saying that there's a one-handed man that makes weapons, that repairs weapons. There are one handed men that fight wars, and you don't need two hands to fuck."

Theon snorted. "I suppose." He fell solemn again. "Thank you, for trying to make me feel better."

"It will take time." Robb admitted. "But I promise you, you will always have a place here at Winterfell. We'll find something for you. It wasn't your sword hand so there's always that."

Theon smiled quickly. "I've done a lot of thinking over the last couple of days, about family. Family isn't who births you or who has your blood, not really. It's about who chooses you, who looks after you when you're sick and who cares for you when you're upset." He sighed. "I'm done pretending that I'm something I'm not. I just needed this as a wake-up call." He held his arm up again. "I choose House Stark. I choose the North, if you'll have me. I'm done pretending my family care for me, I'm done pretending I'm an Ironborn."

Robb smiled. "Are you sure?"

Theon nodded. "I'd bend the knee, but…"

"You don't have to do that." Robb insisted. He grinned at Theon. "As I said, you're always welcome here. Get well enough to be out of bed and we'll get you a role somewhere, I promise." Robb stood up. "Before that though, I've got you a present."

Theon looked confused, and Robb made his way to the door, opening it. In stepped Theon's favourite Wintertown whore, Ros. The red head looked at Theon and pouted dramatically. "I heard someone needs a nursemaid."

Theon smirked, looking questioningly at Robb. "I thought she wasn't allowed in the castle walls."

Robb shrugged with a grin. "It helps to be the heir to Winterfell sometimes." He reached into his cloak and pulled out a purse full of coins, throwing it to Ros. "Make it worthwhile." He said, before leaving the room and slamming the door shut. He turned to the guard. "I'd go and find something to do for a few hours, you won't want to listen in on that." He chuckled.

* * *

It had happened as it had before. Rhaego was stillborn, malformed, scaled and twisted. Drogo was alive, but the shell only, everything that made him a Khal was gone, taken from the witch that Dany had been so tempted to burn thousands of times already in this short time. Finally, Drogo had been moved back into his tent and it was time to end his suffering once again. Jon was in the tent with her, her faithful Northman not wanting to leave her alone. Dany knew however that this was something she needed to do alone.

"You don't need to stay, Jon." She said calmly.

Jon shifted nervously. "I'm worried for you, Khaleesi." He told her.

Dany smiled sadly. "I'm not a Khaleesi, not anymore." She admitted. "I'm simply the wife of a dead Khal, the mother of a dead boy."

Jon's eyes were firmly at his feet. "I tried to save the body, but the witch…"

"She spared me the heartbreak." Dany said quickly, interrupting him. "I knew Rhaego was going to die, Jon. It happened before and it happened again, I didn't want to see him."

Jon looked up at her, confusion in his eyes. "Is this to do with the dragons?" He asked quietly. "Rhaego needed to die so they may live?"

Dany shook her head. "Not Rhaego, but Drogo and the Maegi, yes." She answered. "Are they building the pyre as I asked?"

Jon nodded. "Jorah and Jory are seeing to it. Rakharo managed to get the Dothraki that stayed to gather wood too."

Dany smiled. "My faithful friends." She whispered, looking back to Drogo, his eyes wide open and staring at the tent roof. "Go and help them, please?" She asked Jon. "I need to do this alone."

Jon nodded, looking at her sadly before he turned and left Dany alone in the tent with her first husband. She turned to him, rinsing a cloth in a water bucket to wash him one last time. "**I'm sorry this happened again, my sun and stars**." She told him. "**You do not deserve this fate. You deserve to ride in the night lands for all of time**." She sighed. "**I will remember you always, my sun and stars**."

Dany leant down to kiss Drogo softly on the lips one last time. Pulling away, she reached for the pillow by her feet and pressed it onto his face, tears flowing as she smothered Drogo to death for the second time.

* * *

Robb was in the middle of being put through his paces in the training yard when the call went up that riders were approaching from the North. He quickly wiped his face down and put his sword away and his cloak back on before he was met by his Mother, Sara and Arya.

"Do we know who is coming?" Arya asked excitedly.

Robb shook his head. "Although if it's from the North, it may be from Ironrath."

"Mira?" Arya asked, even more excited.

"Aye, I'd wager." Robb said. The gates opened, and Robb's hunch was right. In came a group of 4 guards, all of them carrying the white Weirwood tree on a field of black, a black sword in the trunk of the tree. Two men each were either side of a small carriage. The carriage came to a halt, and out stepped Mira Forrester, a long black dress with little white trees on her skirts to mark her birth house, although Robb noticed the direwolf of House Stark in a lighter shade on her chest just beneath the wolfskin cloak clasps. Behind her coming out of the carriage was Ethan Forrester, and the pair both knelt towards Robb.

"Stand, please." Robb insisted with an eye roll. "We are family now, are we not?"

Mira smiled. "Yes we are."

"How was the journey?" Catelyn asked.

Ethan nodded. "As well as can be with a carriage."

"Why did you bring it?" Arya asked before anybody could stop her.

"Arya!" Catelyn hissed.

Mira chuckled. "It's ok, I was about to explain anyway." She turned around and Robb noticed another woman stepping out of the carriage, with a thick bundle of furs in her arms.

"Is that…" Cat whispered, a tear in her eye.

Mira grinned. "We found out not long after I arrived back in Ironrath. I wanted it to be a surprise."

Robb was grinning now too. "Congratulations, My Lady." He offered.

Mira was handed the bundle and she stepped forwards. "Lady Catelyn, Lord Robb, Lady Arya, Lady Sara." She named them all. "Allow me to introduce you to the heir to the Causeway, Asher Stark."

She handed the baby over to Catelyn, who adjusted the furs so that she could stare into the babe's eyes. They were a darker grey than Torrhen's were, but his hair was the darker brown that both Arya and Torrhen shared with Ned. His face, Robb was jovially thankful, was more Mira's.

"He is gorgeous." Cat whispered. "He can't be that old…"

"A couple of months." Ethan answered. "When we heard the news that the war was won, we knew we had to bring him here, to Winterfell."

Robb nodded. "Let us get him inside. We'll have some food brought for you, you must be hungry."

"And Sansa will want to see him." Cat remarked, not taking her eyes off the babe.

They all moved into the Great Hall and a small dinner was set out for them all. Rickon and Robin Arryn had joined them and met with the baby, and so had Wylla with Beron, leaving Sansa the last. The food was almost gone, and Mira was telling Catelyn and Robb about Rodrik's daughter, Alyssa Forrester, the new heir to Ironrath after Rodrik's death at Oxcross when the doors opened and in stepped the eldest Stark daughter along with her husband. "Mira!" She exclaimed, quickly making her way to the table. "When did you get here?"

"Just this evening." Mira replied.

"Where have you been?" Cat asked, holding Beron in her arms as she began feeding him, giving Wylla a break.

Sansa looked abashed. "We went for a ride on Cinnamon." She answered. Lord Ryswell had gifted her a new reddish-brown mare for her wedding day.

"Well come here!" Arya exclaimed, sat next to Ethan. Sansa looked confused but walked over to the table and gasped when she saw Asher in Wylla's arms. She looked between Mira and Asher multiple times before squealing in delight. "Seven hells." Arya groaned, putting her hands over her ears."

"Arya!" Cat scolded again. "Not in front of the children, please."

"Sorry." She shrugged. Sansa sat down beside Wylla and took the baby in her arms.

"His name is Asher." Mira smiled.

Sansa stroked the baby's chin with a finger, and he giggled lightly. "Hello." She cooed. "Hello Asher." She looked up at Mira. "He has Tor's eyes."

"And his smile." Mira commented.

"He's adorable. Come, Dom. Look." She told her husband.

Domeric Bolton leaned over her shoulder and smiled softly at the baby. "He looks strong." Dom noted.

"He had a patch of fever in his first couple of weeks." Mira told them. "But he pulled through."

"And Tor doesn't know?" Sansa asked. Mira shook her head. "Well won't you be the perfect surprise." She cooed at Asher again. "And you'll be best friends with Bear!" She exclaimed, using her nickname for Beron.

Robb watched on happily as Sansa grew excited. He looked around the table at the majority of his family and felt a sense of pure happiness, and even though he knew that Ned and Torrhen's returns would mean he would be sailing off to war again, he suddenly couldn't wait for nearly all of House Stark to be together in one room.

* * *

Ser Jorah hadn't been able to watch the burning pyre for long after Daenerys had stepped into it. Even Jory had tried to pull Jon away, but Jon somehow knew that this wasn't the end of his journey in Essos, and he stayed standing, watching the flames and the smoke until dawn came.

He had kept running Dany's last words to him in his head over and over. _"We are the blood of Old Valyria, Aegon."_ She had said, her hand on his chest just before she stepped into the flames. _"Fire cannot harm us. Wait for me."_

And so he had, he had watched as the witch began to cast her spells and begin screaming. He had watched as the woman's skin melted, and her bones crumbled to ash. He had watched as the pyre began to collapse in on itself as the flames grew hotter and hotter, and he had watched through watery eyes as the fire became smoke.

He felt Ser Jorah walk up to him and realised that it must be morning. The pyre was all but gone by now, and the last remnants of black smoke filtered into the air. Jon saw a lone figure sat down in the middle of it all and his breath hitched. Stepping forwards without saying anything, Jon stopped a few feet away from a completely nude, yet perfectly alive Daenerys Targaryen, a small smile on her face. In her arms was a green dragon, and in between her legs a cream and gold one. Jon's eyes widened, as a black dragon climbed from her back over her shoulder.

"Blood of my blood." Jorah said, wide eyed in amazement. Jon heard Jorah get to one knee, and Dany climbed to her feet, the cream dragon climbing up her leg as she moved. Jon was lost for words. He knew that his mission had been to ensure the dragons were hatched, but until this very moment he never truly believed that it was possible. He dropped down to one knee too, his eyes firmly on the ground. "My Queen." He said firmly, knowing where his loyalties now completely lay.

He heard more men and women get to their knees as Dany stood powerfully, no care for her modesty. Jon looked up briefly to see the black dragon stretch its legs and flap its wings, letting out a shriek to announce its presence to the world. The dragons were back.

* * *

**Dragons! This of course brings us to the end of 300 AC and the first season of Game of Thrones, as Jon commits himself to the Targaryen cause. He'll still be wrestling with his identity, but he's falling for this Targaryen beauty, and the dragons are certainly an omen for him.**

**Torrhen's warging is growing stronger too, although he will only be able to warg Balerion. He's not show Bran… He has a son now too, named after the first of Mira's brothers to die in this reality. **

**Oldstones is said to have a Godswood and House Mudd was an important First Men house, so it seems natural that they had a Weirwood tree. That being said, when House Mudd fell it's said that it was due to a war against Andals, so with there being no mention of a Weirwood tree in the Storm of Swords epilogue I deduced that it made sense that the Andals killed Tristifer V Mudd and sacked Oldstones, cutting down the Weirwood as a sign of victory.**

**Finally, a bit like Jon, Theon chooses his loyalties and he chooses Robb and House Stark. He won't be a major player in the story, but this will cause a few ripples down the line for sure.**

**I hope you all enjoyed it, even though this chapter itself was a bit more Targaryen heavy rather than Stark. Next time: The Northmen return home, Jaime makes it to the Wall and Dany's sense of déjà vu helps her make some different choices…**

**Reviews:**

**KidChaos69: There's a plan for what will happen to Theon for sure.**

**Freakdogsflare: Remember that Torrhen doesn't know everything about everything, and he is still leaning on Ned for a lot.**

**Svenion: He certainly won't like it at first, but the Night's Watch will be used to rehabilitating people that don't want to be there.**

**Chuck Moloney: Sandor was Joffrey's sworn sword though, so he had to die in that battle unfortunately no matter how much I liked him. Victarion meanwhile was a prisoner of the honourable Robb Stark.**

**C.E.W: Torrhen and Mira married in Chapter 22.**


	36. Dragon Dreams

**As Covid-19 continues to ravage the world, here's another chapter to keep you all occupied and hopefully entertained for a few minutes at least!**

**I've also begun dabbling with my old idea of 'what would happen if Aerys' children all lived' that I released a couple of chapters of before my hard drive died almost 2 years ago. It's still in the basic planning stages, but so far it's looking like it will be my most intense project ever, if I get around to it properly of course.**

**But enough about that and time to focus on this one. While this is a show fic, the ignoring of King Jaehaerys II always annoyed me once I found out about the book Targaryen lineage, so I'm including him in this time. That makes Maester Aemon's nephew Jaehaerys, and not Aerys.**

**A small part of this chapter is borrowed from Season 2 Episode 4 'The Garden of Bones', while another section is influenced by a scene in Season 1 Episode 9 'Baelor'.**

**All rights belong to George R R Martin and HBO.**

* * *

**301 AC**

The march back to Winterfell had been long, but the relief that Torrhen had felt as he passed through Moat Cailin was nothing compared to the joy he felt at seeing Winterfell again. The old walls dominated the skyline for miles, and riding through the Wintertown towards them seemed to take longer than the entire march did as Torrhen was just eager to get there.

He rode alongside his Father, with Balerion trotting along the other side of his horse, Obsidian, as they entered Winterfell proper, the courtyard was rammed with the inhabitants of the castle, and at the front of them all stood House Stark. Robb looked older, a full beard on his face now and he looked stern, like the Lord of Winterfell should, with his blonde haired wife Wylla beside him. Rickon was a full head taller than he used to be as well while Sara had almost doubled in size as the littlest Stark stood with her hand in Cat's, and even Arya had grown. Torrhen's eyes were quickly trained on his two girls however, with Mira and Sansa stood next to each other.

"House the wagons in the First Keep." Ned ordered before dismounting. "Keep a close guard on them, I don't want any thievery. Anybody that tries is to be arrested."

"Yes Lord Stark!" Came the response.

As Ned and Torrhen came to a stop in front of his family, those behind them that were escorting a number of wagons forged a path through the people that had stopped to watch on as they drove towards the abandoned part of Winterfell. Torrhen dismounted at the same time as Ned did, and they both walked to their respective wives, hugging them. Torrhen quickly hugged Sansa too as he pulled away from Mira, before he reunited with the rest of his family, hugging Arya and Rickon first, before Sara, Robb and his Mother. Ned did the same, and once the reunions were completed they stood together, allowing the rest of the courtyard to start disbanding. Balerion noticed his Direwolf siblings at that moment and bounded after them, clattering into Shaggydog playfully.

"Why so many wagons?" Robb asked, noticing as the tenth wagon rolled passed.

Torrhen grinned. "You didn't think we'd leave the West empty handed, did you?"

Cat was stunned. "You mean all of this…"

"The Lannisters committed treason. The debt incurred by the crown was forgiven in its entirety, while the reparations were generous indeed." Ned explained. He looked to Vayon Poole, the steward who was loitering. "I did promise you that acquiring the funds for my projects would be taken care of."

Vayon snorted. "And some, I'd say. I'll need to go and count it."

Ned nodded. "Make it your priority. I need to know how many wagons to send to Robett Glover, how many to send to Karhold and how many to keep for ourselves and Moat Cailin." Vayon bowed and departed. "So, shall we retire to the Great Hall? I know I'm starving." Ned asked.

"In a moment." Catelyn said, a grin on her face. "There are some boys I think you both should meet before we head inside."

Torrhen remembered that he had a little nephew and began to smile, before the exact wording that his Mother had used sank in. "Boys?" He asked. Mira grinned as she turned around to pick up a bundle from Ethan. Torrhen's breath hitched as realisation set in. "We haven't…"

"Allow me to introduce Asher, of the House Stark. Heir to the Causeway." Mira smiled.

Torrhen just choked out a laugh. "My Lady, this is…" He didn't have the words. "You kept this from me."

Mira shrugged. "I didn't know how to word it in a letter, and I didn't want to tempt fate in case of any problems."

Torrhen stepped towards his wife and held his arms out, and Mira placed the baby in his arms. Beside him, Ned had been introduced to Beron, but Torrhen only had a view for little Asher. He had slightly darker hair than Torrhen's, but that wasn't overly noticeable. The eyes however were noticeably darker, halfway between Jon's dark grey eyes and Torrhen's lighter. Asher was wide eyed and staring up at Torrhen, who just grinned down at his son.

"I am going to do better by you." He whispered, inaudible for everybody else. "I swear it, on the Old Gods and the New, I will make sure you get to grow up in a world that's safe."

"He looks like you." Ned's voice came from over Torrhen's shoulder. He was holding Beron with a big smile on his face but he stared at Asher.

"The poor child." Sansa stated bluntly, and all of them laughed. Torrhen grinned as he gently rocked the baby before they all moved in to eat as a family before the craziness of the feast later on began.

* * *

And crazy it was. Once more all the Lords and Ladies of the North had gathered to celebrate the victory in the West. Torrhen was up dancing with Mira, slightly drunk on the ale he had been drinking all day and chanting out the lyrics to the bawdy 'Bear and the Maiden Fair' song being belted out by Cregan Glenmore, the bard for the evening.

"THE BEAR, THE BEAR, THE BEAR AND THE MAIDEN FAIR!" Torrhen roared as he twirled Mira around, before the song ended and he clapped along with the rest of them. Mira was panting with a wide grin as she excused herself, with Torrhen following to the Forrester table, where Mira's father, Lord Gregor, was sat holding his grandson.

He sat down and watched the room as Cregan Glenmore started up 'The Lusty Lad', a favourite of the Greatjon's. He saw his parents stood by the Lord's chair, Ned wrapping his wife up in his arms from behind as they swayed along to the music. Robb was arm wrestling with the Smalljon towards one side too, and Torrhen noticed Sansa and Domeric dancing together, causing Torrhen to smile to see his twin so happy.

He grabbed another ale and settled further into his seat, laughing when the Smalljon smashed Robb's hand into the table and belted out a roar in victory. Apparently it was a drinking game too, as Robb was quickly handed an ale and forced to down it by the small group of nobles that had gathered around him.

Once Cregan had finished the next song, Ned smacked his tankard on the table and the entire room fell silent. Torrhen was once again impressed at the level of respect he commanded. "My Lords!" The Lord of Winterfell exclaimed at that. "My Ladies! We stand here after our triumph against the traitorous Lannisters, victorious and richer for the trouble." Torrhen grinned as he banged his tankard on the table in celebration along with the rest of the room. "But before we look to the future, I want us to remember the thousands of men that perished in the battles. I want us to remember those that should be here among us tonight, but were killed in the West."

Torrhen nodded, holding his tankard high as he thought about his wife's brother, Rodrik among the many others. Benfred and Brandon Tallhart, the two cousins that often travelled to Winterfell in their youth, Halys Hornwood, the Lord of Hornwood. Torrhen even spared a thought for Harald Karstark and Roger Ryswell, both were traitors in Tor's last life, but in this one Karstark was one of the men that died at the Kingslayer's blade in defence of King Robert, and Roger Ryswell died in the assault of Casterly Rock.

There were others, Torrhen was sure, but Ned broke the moment of contemplation by stating. "Now though, we look towards the future. To the Ironborn, and the preparations for what's coming from the North." The atmosphere in the room suddenly grew tense and nervous. "With the plunder that we have gained and the battle-hardened men we have brought back with us, I expect everybody to prepare for the harshest winter we have ever faced. Send any available and willing men to bolster the Night's Watch. Import food and improve your defences ready for the coming storms. Do whatever needs to be done to your castles. Work will begin on the castle in the Gift immediately with the help of Lord Rickard." He nodded towards the Karstark Lord. "As well as on improving the Kingsroad to improve travel speeds. Moat Cailin will also be finished with the gold earned from the campaign, and Lord Torrhen will see to it that the area is ready for a mass evacuation southwards if that becomes needed."

Torrhen stood up and nodded at Ned at that, accepting the tankards banging on the tables as the Smalljon shouted. "The butcher of the Rock!"

Groaning, he sat down. Mira leaned into him and asked. "What was that?"

"I'll tell you later." He promised, as Ned continued.

"Firstly however, we must pay the Ironborn back." Ned said darkly, and the room was louder in agreement than it had been all night. "My son, Lord Robb, will lead the host of men to the Isles to fight under my name with Lord Stannis Baratheon, and I would like those that fought the Ironborn back to join him. Lord Bolton, Lord Glover, Lady Dustin." He looked at each as he said their names. "Will you fight?"

"Aye." Each said proudly, although Barbrey Dustin was more delayed than the others.

"What of the rest of us?" The Greatjon asked. "We want to fuck those Ironborn cunts too!"

"Aye!" A louder agreement came.

Robb stood up. "Winter is Coming, men and women of the North." He was slightly drunk, but his words carried meaning. "If we all went sailing we would end up less prepared to fight the true threat in the North. My Father appreciates the willingness of you all to fight, but we only have limited ships, and the might of the Royal Fleet alongside us will make this nought but a rout!"

Torrhen banged his tankard again in agreement, spilling some ale this time. Ned nodded gratefully at his son. "But enough about that. We are here to celebrate tonight, are we not? Cregan, How about Off to Gulltown?"

Cregan grinned and picked his lute back up, strumming the strings as he began one of the songs that Ned enjoyed from his childhood in the Vale. "Off to Gulltown to see the fair maid…"

Mira grabbed his hand again, grinning childishly. "Come on!" She cried. Torrhen groaned jovially as he let himself be dragged back onto the dance floor, noticing Gregor Forrester's chuckles as he went to continue the celebrations long into the morning.

* * *

Torrhen's head was sore the next morning. When he woke up the sun was already high in the sky and he noticed Mira sat at a changing table brushing her hair, already dressed. "Good morning, husband." She smirked at him through the new mirror that had been placed there in his absence."

He just groaned at the sunlight, covering his face with the pillows. "Remind me never to get that drunk again." He croaked, his throat dry.

Mira chuckled. "There's a light ale on the desk next to you."

Torrhen didn't like the sound of more alcohol, but he drank a sip anyway to wet his throat. "You look lovely this morning." He said sitting up. She was dressed in a light grey dress and it was simple without much decoration, but Torrhen loved it.

"Father has asked for me and Ethan to spend the day with him, so I'm going to take Asher and we're going for a small picnic." She explained. "Don't worry, you don't have to come." Torrhen appreciated that, he didn't feel up to riding anywhere in his state. "Your sister came looking for you an hour ago."

"Which one?" Torrhen asked.

"Sansa." Mira replied. "I told her that you would join her this afternoon."

Torrhen smirked. "Very well, as my wife commands." He stretched the once and gingerly got out of bed to cover his nakedness with some loose-fitting brown trousers before he walked over to the changing table and wrapped his arms around Mira, kissing her on the cheek.

He let her get ready and leave then, before he himself got dressed in his trademark black, although for the first time in a long time it was woollen and smart, not leather armour, that he pulled on. He added a thick wolfskin cloak and went to the kitchens and filled himself up on some breakfast and began to feel slightly better before he made his way to the Godswood and said a prayer, meeting up with Balerion outside.

That was where Sansa met him with Lady, and both the human pair and the Direwolf pair came together fondly. They began to take a walk around the castle.

"I'm sorry I missed your wedding." Torrhen said honestly.

Sansa smiled. "It was rushed yes, but don't be sorry. I'm at peace with it. Although it does feel odd, like we're married but not at the same time."

Torrhen knew what she meant. "Don't be too worried about not sleeping together." Torrhen told her. "You're still young yet."

"I'm older than you." Sansa reminded her twin with a huff.

Torrhen grinned. "Aye, and I wouldn't change Asher for the world, but the facts are that we are still very young and still growing. Mira and I spoke before the feast yesterday and decided that we are waiting for a while before we go for another child just to ensure that nothing goes wrong."

Sansa nodded, before snorting out a laugh. "Who would have thought we'd be talking about being married." She chuckled.

Torrhen grinned too. "It does seem surreal. But that is our life I suppose. Give it time and soon you will leave for the Dreadfort and I shall hold Moat Cailin."

"How is the build going?" Sansa asked quickly.

Torrhen grinned. "Both the Weeping Tower and the Merman's Tower either side of the Kingsroad to the South were completed before the war so whenever Domeric or House Manderly visit their space is fully furnished and ready, and since we've been away the Giant's Tower that rises above the Kingsroad to the North of the castle has been finished for House Umber's men." He explained. "There are still 6 more towers to go, but the pace can resume now."

"Wow." Sansa raised her eyebrows. "That's happened quickly."

Torrhen nodded. "The entire North know how important this is, so motivation is high."

They reached the balcony that Ned always used to like standing on, and Torrhen noticed that Arya and Cregan Glenmore were yet again practicing their archery. They stood and watched in silence for a moment, when Arya struck just outside the centre mark. She was delighted and Nymeria jumped up in celebration, and Torrhen began clapping. Arya was surprised and looked upwards, surprise on her face until she realised who was there. "Seven hells you two, I thought you were Mother and Father."

Torrhen looked at Sansa and the pair burst into laughter, appreciating that they did look similar to their parents. "You're shooting well. You must have had a good teacher."

Cregan grinned. "You weren't here, so someone had to step up occasionally."

Torrhen nodded in appreciation. "Well House Glenmore are the best North of the Neck, so you were in good hands, sister."

Cregan snorted. "We're the best in Westeros you mean." He added jovially.

"What's that!" Arya pointed upwards in the sky. Torrhen obviously couldn't see anything due to the roof, so he and Sansa made their way to an open roofed area and looked in the direction of Arya's point.

"By the Seven…" Sansa gasped. Torrhen meanwhile, had a huge grin on his face.

"Jon you wonderful man." He whispered as he watched the Red Comet burn brightly in the sky.

"Jon?" Sansa asked.

Torrhen grinned. "The Red Comet means a shift in the world. I might be mistaken, but I'd wager a guess that Jon has helped Daenerys Targaryen in Essos."

"Helped the Targaryen?" Sansa looked nervous. "How?"

Torrhen turned to Sansa. "Dragons, Sansa. It means we have Dragons in the world once more."

* * *

Thankfully, Dany's memory of her past life and the knowledge of the region made the road from Lhazar to Qarth easier. The small Khalasar raided the last village before the Red Waste for supplies before they embarked on the arduous journey through the desolate wastelands.

It still took many weeks until they arrived, but they were finally through the Garden of Bones and stood outside the almost golden walls of Qarth. Jon stared up at them, not relishing the thought of having to assault them. Thankfully, a delegation had come out to greet them, matched of course with a number of spearmen.

"They are called the Thirteen." Dany said, distastefully. "Flower your words, they love to be flattered. But trust nobody, especially not the Summer Islander or the Warlock."

Jon grimaced, he wasn't very good at masking his intentions. He still nodded however, preferring to keep his mouth shut instead. He stared at the approaching men, all dressed in fineries that Jon hadn't seen the like of since Pentos. He felt out of place in his Northern armour, but still he stood his ground at Daenerys' side and tried to look as unlikable as he could. Thankfully Ghost was at his other side, staring at what was going on.

A balding man in a peach coloured robe approached them separately from the rest and stopped before Daenerys. "This is a great surprise, Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen." The man said. "Qarth, the greatest city that ever was or will be, was not expecting your visit."

Jon fought the urge to scoff. Every city thought that they were the greatest after all. "You know me?" Daenerys asked.

"Only by reputation, Khaleesi." The man said, and Jon decided he didn't like the pompous man. "They call you the Mother of Dragons."

Dany nodded and turned behind her, gesturing towards Drogon who began to climb up her body and sit on her shoulder. "Word travels fast it seems. We have been stranded in the Red Waste for some time."

"And now here you are. The question is, however. Why?" The man said.

Dany smirked knowingly. "I could have gone back to Vaes Dothrak and lived out my life in the Dosh Khaleen, it is true. But as you said yourself, I am the Mother of Dragons. No, I would go to my homeland, and to do that I need a port. Yours was the nearest."

The man looked surprised. "You just wanted to get on a ship? I must say, I'm very surprised."

"It is out of character for my family I suppose." Dany said, stroking Drogon's chin. "But my home is far away and I long for it dearly. If you would allow us access simply to resupply ourselves and perhaps buy a ship, when I come into my Throne I shall remember the generosity of the Thirteen."

The man grinned. "It seems you know us too, Khaleesi."

"Your reputation proceeds you." Dany flattered.

"Then you would know that Qarth, the greatest city that ever was or will be, will not remain the greatest city that ever was or will be by inviting Dothraki savages into its walls."

Dany just smiled. "My Dothraki are simply tired and long for respite from the desert. They will not plunder your city unless provoked, I promise you."

The man smiled, but Jon could see it was patronising in nature. "But I do not know you, Khaleesi. I cannot trust the words of a girl I have never met."

"Then remember that I shall remember you denied me too." Dany said kindly, though her words were threatening. She stroked Drogon again. "He is small now it is true, but when he is grown he will burn cities to the ground."

"But you have no supplies." The man stated as if he had won the battle of words.

Dany however, wasn't so defeated after all. "Drogon needs no supplies to burn you here. Perhaps once you have been burnt alive by dragonfire your friends will be more willing to aid me."

The man's façade dropped, and he looked at Dany in outrage. "Threats will…"

"Are you threatened?" The Summer Islander that Dany mentioned earlier said mockingly. "She is but a young girl."

The leader turned around and glared at the Summer Islander. "A girl that has threatened to burn our city to the ground."

"Only if we do not allow her access to a ship."

"The discussion is over, Xaro Xhoan Daxos. The Thirteen have spoken." The man said frustrated.

"I am one of the Thirteen, and I am still speaking." Xaro countered.

"The girl threatens to burn our city to the ground and you would invite her in for a cup of wine? She is the Mother of Dragons!"

Jon didn't understand why Dany had been so cautious of the Summer Islander when he was sticking his neck out for her. "Do you expect her to watch her people starve without breathing fire?" Xaro asked. "I believe we can allow a few Dothraki through our gates without dooming our city. After all, here I am, a savage from the Summer Isles, and Qarth still stands."

"Our decision is final." The first man said.

"Very well. I invoke soumai." The men behind Xaro all looked at each other uncomfortably as he drew a long dagger from his hip. "I will vouch for her, her people, and her dragons, in accordance with the law." He drew his blade against his palm and displayed the wound to all the other members of the Thirteen."

The leader of the group seemed unimpressed. "Be it on your head." He said coolly, returning to the rest of the group.

Xaro gestured to Dany welcomingly. "Welcome to Qarth, My Lady. Do not be afraid to stick around for a while longer than you plan."

"Thank you." Dany said with a smile Jon could see was fake. "If it is not too much trouble, there is one thing I would like to ask of your warlock friend…"

* * *

The gates of Castle Black opened slowly. Jaime was one of the only men of the West on horseback, with the majority of the Westermen being simple men at arms, choosing life over execution. They had been escorted as part of the Northern return, but after Winterfell it had been the third son of Rickard Karstark that had led them. Just enough men to mean an attempt to escape was futile.

Not that Jaime wanted to escape. Thankfully he had been spared of seeing his Father and sister loose their lives, but the thought of it haunted him deeply. He couldn't even remember the last time he smiled.

They filtered into the courtyard of Castle Black, and Jaime was surprised at how empty the place was. Men were scattered about infrequently, but there couldn't have been more than 30 out in the open of the castle.

Torrhen Karstark, his current captor, moved towards the approaching man dressed in black, a man that Jaime recognised from so long ago. "Lord Torrhen." Ser Alliser Thorne said gruffly, a scowl on his face.

"Ser Alliser." Torrhen said, equally as displeased. "I trust you can settle these in?"

Ser Alliser nodded the once, and he grinned over at the now forcibly dismounted Jaime. "Well what do we have here." He said, a dark grin on his face. "Kingslayer."

Jaime set his jaw so he didn't give away any emotion at hearing the cursed name. "Ser Alliser, it's been a long time."

"Must be almost 20 years now." Ser Alliser noted. "20 years since your cunt of a Father betrayed his King and sent me here." He was growling.

"Now now, we're all allies now." Jaime said with a forced smirk. "We've come to take the Black, and I heard all past actions are forgiven."

Ser Alliser growled again. "By the realm mayhaps. Not by me." He said shortly, stepping forwards so he was inches away from Jaime's face. "You put a toe out of line and I'll see you sharing an ice cell with the Greyjoy cunt that joined us weeks back."

That interested Jaime as he didn't know there was a Greyjoy here. He let Torrhen Karstark cut his bindings, the Northman with just as much hatred in his eyes. "Nor by me." Karstark said quietly yet menacingly in Jaime's ear. "You killed my brother and left his baby daughter fatherless. If it were up to me, I'd give you to the Bolton's."

Karstark shoved Jaime backwards before he walked away to cut another mans bindings, and Ser Alliser had another ugly smirk on his face. "Follow Pyp. He'll take you to Maester Aemon."

Jaime over exaggeratedly nodded his acceptance at the request and followed the boy up the steps, hearing Ser Alliser barking out orders to the rest of his fellow countrymen. Pyp opened up a door. "Ser Jaime Lannister to see you, Maester."

"Send him in." Said the oldest voice that Jaime had ever heard. He walked in and Pyp closed the door behind him, leaving Jaime in the room alone with the man. Jaime took a look around. There was a desk filled with books, bits of parchment and quills. A small bed was in the corner of the room, and a fire was roaring in the fireplace. An old man sat staring at one of the walls, dressed all in black and with a Maester's chain around him.

"Maester." Jaime greeted. The Maester's eyes narrowed, but he didn't look towards Jaime.

"Long have I wanted to hear your voice." The Maester said gently, although there was a hint of bitterness in his tone, Jaime noted. "You are famous even at the edge of the world."

Jaime gulped, unsettled. "Probably for the wrong reasons." He commented, trying to sound his usual, proud self.

Aemon nodded. "Indeed. Oathbreaker, they call you. Kingslayer." He snarled the last bit.

"I'm putting all that behind me." Jaime said carefully. "I'm here to serve, nothing more."

"Yes, to serve. To do your duty as a man of the Night's Watch." Aemon commented. "It is our duty to renounce our names, our titles, our past lives. But tell me, Ser Jaime. What would you do if you heard the news that Casterly Rock had fallen. That a man trusted by your family had betrayed your brother's family and murdered them. That even the children had been slaughtered." He was truly spitting the last words out bitterly. "The Gods were cruel when they brought that news to me. I was old, unable to make a difference even if I wanted to."

Jaime's eyes were wide in horror. "Who are you?"

Aemon's eyes were vacant, yet he was scowling. "My Father was Maekar, First of his Name. After him ruled my little brother, Aegon, Fifth of his name. My nephew Jaehaerys followed him and then his son Aerys."

Jaime took a shaky step back, amazed and terrified at the aura that this old man was giving off. "I…"

"I don't want excuses." Aemon bit venomously, before he settled again and relaxed. "I am sure as I have you have thought about it long and hard."

"Not saving the children has been the biggest regret of my life." Jaime insisted honestly. "If I had known they were in danger…"

"You would have saved them?" Aemon raised an eyebrow. "You would have stood against your Father's men and protected them?"

"Yes." Jaime told him, knowing that he would have. "I liked Elia, I adored the babes. What happened to them wasn't right."

"Nor is killing the King you swore to protect." Aemon told him.

Jaime lowered his head. "I had my reasons." He remembered Torrhen Stark, praising him for those actions. Sighing, he decided to own it. "I saved the city that day. Aerys was ready to slaughter hundreds of thousands with Wildfire. I… I couldn't let that happen."

Aemon sank in his chair, processing the information. "Wildfire has always been a folly of King Maekar's descendants." He noted, more to himself. "My brothers mainly." Sighing, Aemon stated. "I shall never like you. But we are men of the Night's Watch now, or you soon will be. That means we must work together whether we like it or not."

"I do not hate you, Maester. Nor your family, not as Robert Baratheon does." Jaime insisted. "I was in awe of Rhaegar. If he had lived…"

"If he had lived, many things would be different." Aemon noted. "But the thing that would remain is that the Night's Watch is in grave danger. You are a skilled knight, I am told. A skilled commander too. Use it. Protect us from the dangers beyond the Wall and do your duty." He was pointing towards Jaime then. "Think of your regret with little Rhaenys and Aegon and let that drive you to protect all the young in the world from the coming Winter."

"I will." Jaime said honestly. "I have nothing left to live for."

Aemon cocked his head slightly. "We shall see, Ser Jaime. We shall see."

* * *

The House of the Undying was set aside from Qarth by being just a single tall tower in the middle of greenery. Dany walked down the single track path between the tall trees fearlessly, as she followed Pyat Pree inside the curtain walls, where the warlock disappeared. Daenerys was unfazed however, expecting tricks. She walked around the central tower until she found herself transported inside the dark tower once again. Taking the single burning torch, Daenerys began her journey up the steps and through the House of the Undying.

She came to the circular room with four doors, the stone table in its centre. She stared at each door individually, before choosing the one on the right as she had so long ago. Whereas before it had been the Throne Room of the Red Keep, broken and snowed in as it would have been had Dany not stopped her assault on King's Landing, this time it was different. She was walking down a frozen, muddy road towards a large hill, a colossal castle in the way of the road. Dead men littered the ground in all states of decomposition in the process of being covered by the light snowfall. She saw Dornishmen, she saw Rivermen, she saw Westermen and she saw Northmen, she even saw Wildlings, all of them dead in the dirt.

She walked towards the fortress, dodging the bodies as she stepped over them until she came to a large gate that swung open as she was about to knock. Inside the carnage was even worse, with more dead on the ground and impaled to the walls. The sight made her feel ill.

She walked further into the courtyard, seeing torn banners on the ground as well as dead men and women. The Dornish sun and spear had part of the banner torn off, while the Stark one, ever present in this place even though Dany didn't recognise it, was everywhere.

She moved closer towards the main keep, where her mind was forcing her legs to walk to, when she saw it. A giant spider, pale blue and the size of a pony. It was alive, or it was moving at the very least. Dany backed up, noticing that it was ripping into the flesh of a giant grey Direwolf.

Her back was soon against a door, and the Ice Spider noticed her. Gasping, she grasped frantically for the door handle, finding it as the spider neared her and opening the door, slamming it before the spider could get to her. She panted, turning around and pushing her back against the door as she took in her new surroundings.

This time it was the Throne Room of the Red Keep. She was in the corner at the door to the Small Council chamber, and she heard voices coming from the main Throne Room.

"Lord Tyrion will take care of King's Landing brother. You know how much Arya Stark meant to mother and you know how important it is for us to be there. You don't need to worry about the Kingdoms." An adult male's voice echoed through the room.

"Of course I do." A slightly deeper voice came through. "I'm to be King."

"Not for a long time, Gods willing." Dany stepped forwards at that and gasped at what she saw.

Sat on the Iron Throne his head in his hands was her eldest son, Aemon Targaryen, dressed in fineries of his house colours with his shoulder length hair as silver as she remembered. And stood beside the Throne in the shiny silver armour and white cloak of the Kingsguard, Dark Sister strapped to his hip was Rhaegar, her second and youngest son, his hair shaved neatly and a beard on his face. They both turned to face her, smiles on their faces.

"Mother." Aemon grinned as he stood beside his younger brother. "You made it."

"My boys." She said fondly, walking over and reaching up to touch both of their cheeks. "So handsome."

She looked around. The banners of House Targaryen were everywhere, but the Dragon skulls she had placed back in the Throne Room towards the end of her reign weren't there. "What year is this?" She asked.

Rhaegar snorted, but Aemon, ever the diplomat, elbowed his brother in the chest plate and looked down at Dany. "For us? The year 349 after Aegon's Landing. For you? I believe it's early in the year 301."

Dany was surprised. "You know what's happening?"

Rhaegar nodded. "You warned us about the powers of the Warlocks when they joined with Ghiscar." He then smirked. " I guess some of your teachings other than just swinging a sword about stuck."

Dany chuckled. "I miss you both dearly."

"We miss you too." Aemon said kindly, sitting down on the Throne. "But you have a different path to forge now, Mother. One where hopefully you can live happier than you did here."

"I was happy." She insisted. "I was happy with you, my grandsons…"

The magic once again took hold, and suddenly the pair were slightly older. Aemon held his own Grandson, baby Baelon, who wasn't even a year old when she died, in his arms as his eldest Grandchild and future King, Daeron, sat on the floor beneath the Iron Throne playing with a wooden dragon, seemingly unaware of what was going on.

"We know." Aemon smiled. "But after Father… well, you know you weren't the same."

"But that's ok." Rhaegar added quickly. "We understand. This is your opportunity to forge a full life with him, a life without so much death and destruction."

Aemon nodded at his brother's words, bouncing the baby on his knee. "But know that we are happy, that you were the first of a dynasty that will last a thousand years, reborn."

"And that we are always with you, here." Rhaegar said, his gauntleted hand touching her heart. "No matter where you are, we are all here."

Dany had tears in her eyes. She brought in her youngest son for a fierce hug first, before repeating the act with her eldest. "I love you." She told them, wiping her tears away. "Both of you, more fiercely than anything."

Aemon grinned, gesturing to the Small Council chamber. "There's someone else you need to see before you go."

Rhaegar nodded, standing tall beside the Throne as his role dictated, and the two boys watched as Dany walked slowly into the Small Council chamber, opening the door.

There, sat in the seat that he had always sat in during the council meetings, was Jon. Her Jon. He was greying at the side of his head and his beard, and his eyes had wrinkles that came with age, but it was her Jon as she remembered him. She choked out a sob, rushing to be picked up in his strong arms.

"My Queen." Jon whispered.

"My Jon." She whispered back. "It's been so long." Jon put her down and captured her lips fiercely, with Dany treasuring every second of this. "I thought I lost you on the banks of the Skahazadban." The image flashed in her mind of the assault of Meereen during the Ghiscari revolt as the Six Kingdom forces fought along the banks of the local river, where Jon and Rhaegal had been shot out of the sky into the crowd of sellswords. He had put up a fight as he always had done, but there were too many of them and Drogon couldn't reach him in time. The war had been won thanks to the efforts of Cregan Stark and the Kingdom of the North, but it had been little consolation at the time.

"You have me now." Jon told her. "And you have me again, it seems."

"He's not you though." Dany whispered.

Jon smirked. "Of course he is. He's me at 17."

"But you're my Jon." She replied sadly. "My King, my partner."

"He can be too." Jon smiled down at her. "We are the same, we're just on different paths. There is one thing that will be the same no matter what reality you find yourself in though, Dany."

"What's that?" She asked.

Jon looked down at her with those dark, dreamy eyes. "We love you with everything we have." Dany's lip quivered and she was crying again. Jon chuckled and lifted her chin up with one hand while wiping the tears away with the other. "You have a chance now that we never did, my love. You can be happy, instead of risk everything over that Iron Throne."

Dany stepped back a step. "It's our birthright." She told him.

Jon shrugged. "Perhaps, but you've had one lifetime ruling. This time you can live, if you choose to. The world will see enough damage and death with the Long Night, do you want to fight yet another war of conquest just for that chair?" Dany didn't, she had lived too long to put herself through that again and Jon could see that on her face. "Do what you must to get to Westeros, remember the Three Eyed Raven's words and I swear, we can be happy."

The door flew open then, and Dany had to shield her eyes from the light that was coming out of the doorway. She looked back at Jon, not wanting to go. "I am yours." She whispered.

"And I am yours." Jon repeated. "Now and always, from this day until the end of time itself." He leaned down to kiss her once more. "It's time."

Dany nodded. She didn't say a goodbye, she couldn't bring herself to. She reached up with her hand and cupped Jon's bearded cheek for a moment before she walked backwards through the doorway.

The heat hit her before the light dissipated, and she was on the docks of Qarth. She saw Jorah helping the Dothraki onto a ship, and she also saw Jon, the younger Jon of this world, approach her. "Are you alright?" He asked. "Did you get what you needed?"

Dany smiled sadly. "I did." She told him softly. She patted him on the chest before she walked towards the ship to where Irri was unloading the dragons. Opening the cages, she let the trio out into the sunlight.

"Shall we set sail, Khaleesi?" Ser Jorah asked her.

Dany didn't look away from the dragons, but she nodded. "Yes, take us west, Ser."

* * *

**This is where the Dany timeline will be skewed a little bit. This is the equivalent of Season 2 Episode 1 or 2, so as it stands she is 2 episodes ahead of canon, but that will again change as she completely ignores Qarth this time. She knows that there is nothing there for her, so she would rather just get her small force away as quickly as possible before she is dragged into Xaro's plan.**

**The House of the Undying visions were wonderful to write. I won't go too into detail about the wintery vision, though I'd love to know your interpretations of that one. The other one however is probably going to be the last time I write any characters from Black Wolf Rises (and the future in that story) that weren't brought from the Risesverse into this reality. I do have a huge calendar of births and deaths from Rises however, and I will add a small family tree here so that you know who Aemon, Rhaegar, Daeron and Baelor are at the bottom if you are interested.**

**Away from Rises and Essos however, and Jaime arrives at the Wall. I felt it would be a good opportunity to show some of the distaste that Ser Alliser would inevitably have considering he was sentenced by Tywin and was a Targaryen loyalist. Aemon was a fun one though, the only time I remember seeing him get overly angry was when talking about the fall of House Targaryen, so to have the man that made it all possible stand in front of him was too good to pass up. **

**Finally at Winterfell, the Northmen and women celebrate. The plunder will be valuable in preparing for the War for the Dawn and improving the North as a whole, and I thought that they deserved at least one night of celebrations. Torrhen also met his son and Ned his two Grandsons!**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Hopefully we can break the 500 reviews mark with this one, so please let me know what you thought and help achieve that amazing milestone!**

**Next time: King Robert Baratheon sorts out his new court and has his first trueborn child, whilst in the North Ned speaks with his ward, and Robb sails to war.**

House Targaryen as at the death of Queen Daenerys I

Queen Daenerys I Targaryen (284 AC – 352 AC) – Jon Snow/King Aegon VI Targaryen (284 AC – 326 AC)

\- - - - - King Aemon I Targaryen (307 AC – 371 AC) – Daena Velaryon (310 AC – 344 AC)

\- - - - - - - - - - King Aegon VII Targaryen (328 AC – 382 AC) – Queen Rhaenys Targaryen (332 AC – 394 AC)

\- - - - - - - - - - Queen Rhaenys Targaryen (332 AC – 394 AC) – King Aegon VII Targaryen (328 AC – 382 AC)

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - King Daeron III Targaryen (350 AC – 402 AC)

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Prince Baelon Targaryen (351 AC – 420 AC)

\- - - - - - - - - - Prince Gaemon Targaryen (344 AC – 398 AC)

\- - - - - Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Ser Rhaegar Targaryen (310 AC – 368 AC)

**Reviews:**

**AlexFalTon: I definitely downplayed it, but that was for a reason. This Daenerys has accepted what needs to happen in the time between her death in the Risesverse and her reawakening in this reality. She understood that the dragons were what was needed, so while she was saddened at what had to happen, she had time to deal with that.**

**Supremus 85: Yeah losing an arm is a lot better than being flayed and gelded!**

**C.E.W: I think they'll try and be a bit careful as they don't want to bring too many helpless children into a time before the Long Night. Yeah this campaign really impacted on Torrhen how much he missed Ned and how much he loves his Father. Dany is aware of Robert being alive and knows that she can't really move too far westwards while he lives.**

**Freakdogsflare: I think Ned would be stuck in his ways no matter what though. He's been through 3 wars now and the horror of them all still hasn't shaken him.**

**ALPHAomega239: 6 people will remember, so with 5 currently remembering (Torrhen, Mira, Olenna, Daenerys and Samwell Tarly) there's only one more to go. All I will say is that we haven't met this person yet and that he isn't related to anybody that already does remember.**

**Anonymous (Chapter 33): That's far too bloody than the situation in the future requires, which is the whole point for Tyrion bending the knee and keeping the West from chaos within itself. The bit about the children as well... I think you need counselling...**


	37. The King's Council

**Apologies that this didn't come out a couple of days ago. Unfortunately while the UK is on a mild lockdown, I'm one of those that needs to work, and I've been so tired over the last few days after work that while this chapter has been ready for a couple of weeks, I couldn't bring myself to upload it on Thursday as I normally would.**

**I hope everybody out there is remaining as safe as possible and is remembering to take this virus seriously. Even if you aren't showing the symptoms you could still be a carrier, so think of the elderly and the at risk above yourself and practice both self-isolation and social distancing!**

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I own nothing but any OC's, everything else belongs to either George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

Life in Winterfell soon settled down to normal once again. Torrhen and Mira were staying in Winterfell, with the official reasoning being that Torrhen was there to advise Ned. With Halys Hornwood dying in the south, it meant that a new castellan had to be chosen for Moat Cailin, and Torrhen had settled for Cley Cerwyn for the time being. Robb had also departed with a strong enough host, ready to take the fight to Pyke.

Torrhen had taken up a bit of a training routine for early mornings, getting in his physical work before midday with archery before breakfast and swordplay afterwards, after which he would spend the rest of the day in meetings with his Father and spending valuable time with his son. Arya had also taken up the early morning training, and the two siblings were in the training yard with wooden swords, swatting at each other.

She had gotten better he noted as she smacked him with the blade on the side. "Good." Torrhen told her. "Do it again." She tried, but Torrhen managed to parry it and knock her backwards with the butt of his own sword. "Don't do what I tell you." He reminded her. "You'll die easily if you do what your opponent expects." Arya grumbled, but she said nothing and swung the sword again, cutting back quickly when Torrhen parried once more. She didn't land any more blows on him, although Torrhen was impressed at her endurance. He kept her at it for another ten minutes or so until she was red in the face and panting. "Good, you've improved a lot." He noted, taking her wooden sword.

"Robb helped me too." Arya said breathlessly as she gulped down water. "He said that if I can beat him when he gets back he'll get Mikken to make me a sword!"

Torrhen grinned. "You'll get there with practice."

They both sat down against the kennel fences, catching their breaths and watching the castle inhabitants go about their business. Torrhen was enjoying the silence, but Arya broke it when she asked. "What's it like? War?"

Torrhen bristled. "For the most part, boring." He told her honestly. "You're constantly marching and there's not a lot to do. The battles though, they are nothing like the songs say. It's a bloody business, you see your friends die in front of you, you become something else…"

"The butcher." Arya said, not unkindly. "That's what some men call you."

Torrhen nodded. "In Casterly Rock… I lost control of myself after killing Joffrey. I don't know what happened really, but I survived." He sighed. "That's the trick to war, and why your lessons here are so important. Just survive, and what comes next will be alright."

Arya nodded too, taking in the words. "I heard a rumour." She began. "That you could have stayed in King's Landing."

Torrhen groaned. The day they parted from the King's own forces Robert Baratheon had invited him and Ned into his tent and asked him to come to the Red Keep and act as his Master of Whisperers due to his visions. Thankfully Torrhen had managed to explain that he couldn't see anything without a Weirwood tree, but the reality was sinking in that his lies about his past were giving him too big of a reputation than he could handle. "I was never going to do that." Torrhen told Arya. "I belong here, in the North. My place is at Father's side, and Robb's after him. Offering my advice and guarding the southern borders for Winterfell. Stark men don't do well in the South, not for long anyway."

"But you could have been on the King's Council." Arya said, a bit awed.

Torrhen shook his head. "A cursed chalice." He said. "You remember Father's saying? About the lone wolf."

"It dies, but the pack survives." Arya quoted.

"Aye, and it's true." Torrhen told her. "I'd have been alone down there with people I cannot trust."

Arya's face fell to the floor in a moment of sorrow. "Jon's on his own."

Torrhen put his arm around her and ruffled her hair slightly. "Jon has Ghost and Jory, he will be fine."

"I worry about him." Arya admitted softly.

Torrhen smiled. "I know, I do to. But Jon's a grown man, he can take care of himself." He stood up. "Come on, you have lessons with Maester Luwin to get to." Arya groaned, but accepted Torrhen's arm as he hoisted her up, pushing her towards the main keep to get washed and changed for the rest of the day.

* * *

As it happened, Torrhen didn't need to worry about his secret cousin. As he was sat with Mira, Asher, Wylla and Beron as the small group had their dinner later that evening they were interrupted when Ned came through the doors, a letter in his hands.

"Father." Torrhen greeted. "Come to join us?"

Ned shook his head. "Not today, I came to share this with you." He placed the letter in Torrhen's hands. "I will be busy for the night, I must have a conversation with Theon, it's been enough time."

Torrhen nodded and watched his Father walk out of the Great Hall. Wylla excused herself with Beron, leaving just Torrhen's immediate new family alone in the spacious room. He unravelled the letter and read, a grin forming on his face. "What is it?" Mira asked, placing Asher down on a blanket that she had laid out on the table.

"It's Jon." He told her. "He's written to us from deep in the Dothraki sea." He read the note again. "Khal Drogo is dead, as is Daenerys Targaryen's son, but she's birthed the dragons." He grinned widely. "I knew it! I knew that's what the comet meant!"

Mira rolled her eyes at the outburst. "So what now? What is she doing?"

Torrhen read further. "He says that they're heading southwards to find a port to buy a ship."

Mira stopped in her tracks. "Are they coming to Westeros?" She asked him.

Torrhen wasn't sure. "I hope not." He said honestly. "King Robert will do all he can to see her dead."

Torrhen saw Mira look sadly into his eyes, knowingly. "You still care for her, don't you?"

Torrhen shrugged. "Not romantically." He told her.

Mira just laughed. "I know that." She rolled her eyes. "But I saw your life before I was brought back, remember. I saw your relationship in Meereen, I know you both shared something important."

"We were there for each other at dark times." Torrhen said. He was thankful that Mira knew him so well that this sort of conversation didn't bother her. "That's all. I was her tether when she had to lock away the dragons, and she was mine after I lost you…"

Mira smiled at him sadly, placing her hand delicately on his cheek. "We were robbed before." She whispered to him. "Our lives cut short when they should have been long and bound together. That's why I thank the gods every day for this chance we have now."

Torrhen nodded, placing his hand over hers in a sign of intimacy. "And I swear to you I will make that count." He leant in and kissed his wife gently. "But I do worry that she'll come for the Seven Kingdoms too soon. I don't want her to drag us into a civil war, one where Father will back the King."

Mira shook her head. "From your words on her she seems smarter than that."

Torrhen nodded. "But the Dany I knew outlived me, Mira." He told her, showing her the letter. "And if Jon is right here, if she does remember our old time… I don't know who she is now. I don't know anything about the aftermath of the Long Night. What if they lost at King's Landing? What if they won? How would ruling the South have affected her?" He sighed. "There's still so much I don't know."

Mira gripped his hand tightly and stared at him with her beautiful blue eyes. "We will learn together. We will deal with it together, you and I."

"As it always should have been." Torrhen grinned, kissing her again. He stood up, giving Asher a tickle under the chin. "I shall be in the Godswood."

"Don't get lost in your thoughts, Tor." Mira said kindly. Torrhen nodded and placed a hand gently on his wife's shoulder in parting before he walked away, desperate to try and find some answers on what the Dragon Queen remembering would bring.

* * *

As Torrhen and Mira were having their discussion on Daenerys Targaryen, Ned was entering the corridor that housed Theon Greyjoy. A guard had been posted on his door, and the man dutifully bowed and opened it. Ned walked in and was surprised to see Theon being helped with his soup by Jeyne Poole, Sansa's friend. They both saw him, and Jeyne immediately got to her feet, placing the bowl on the bedside table before she curtseyed. "Lord Stark."

Theon was slower, but he as well went to get up. "Stay down, Theon." Ned said gently. "Maester Luwin told you to rest, don't get up on my account."

Theon placed himself down in the bed gently, as Jeyne went to wipe his forehead with a cold cloth. "I'll be back tomorrow." She told him, before she curtseyed towards Ned once more. "Lord Stark." And she left the room.

Ned watched her go with a raised eyebrow, and he turned to face Theon with a smirk on his lips. "That seemed… intimate."

Theon was quick to disagree. "No! No Lord Stark, nothing like that. She's just… helping me. I think it's a request from Sansa."

"If there is one thing I know about Jeyne Poole, it's that she wouldn't be here if she didn't want to be." Ned told him. "Just be careful, Theon."

"I wouldn't…" Theon mumbled, and Ned nodded, sitting down.

"Then we can draw a line under this discussion and talk about the reason I came to see you." Ned told him, sitting down on the bed. "Robb has arrived on the Stony Shore. They are due to set sail within the next few days."

Theon's head dropped, but Ned saw his eyes grew narrowed. "Good." Theon said, darkly.

"Good?" Ned was surprised.

"They knew I was here under threat of execution, but they invaded anyway." Theon told him. "They are no family of mine."

"You are aware of what you are saying, yes?" Ned had to be sure. "You are disowning your entire family."

Theon looked up at Ned. "Forgive me for my forwardness My Lord, but you are my family." He said. "Robb, Torrhen, Sansa, all of you. You took me as a hostage and could have treated me like one, but you didn't." He took a deep breath. "I told Robb that I choose the North and I stick by that. Family is who you choose, not just who you are born too."

Ned was pleased. "Then we must discuss what happens going forwards. The Hand of the King is going to put down the rebellion and at the end of that House Greyjoy will likely just be yourself."

"Can I ask… if she surrenders, spare Yara." Theon said quickly.

Ned grimaced. "I'll see if I can get a raven towards Robb in time." He said for the Greyjoy's benefit. "I also need your own writing to send to the King, denouncing your family and renouncing all claims to the Iron Islands."

Theon nodded. "I'll try tomorrow." He said, looking at his missing arm. "I haven't tried writing anything yet."

Ned understood. "Take your time." He insisted. "Do you know what you want to do yet? I understand you told Robb that you wouldn't even consider the Wall."

"No." Theon said quickly. "I know why it is the easiest option, but I don't know how good I'll be at anything yet, let alone with a sword or a spear."

"Then we will find you something in Winterfell when you are up and about." Ned promised. "Perhaps even a wife."

Theon went red. "If My Lord wills that." He mumbled.

Ned chuckled, standing up. "That's all for the future. You get your rest Theon." He patted the bed softly before he turned back towards the door, exiting the small room and noticing Jeyne Poole still standing awkwardly there. "You're still here?" He asked her.

"Sorry, My Lord… he just… he hadn't finished his soup." Jeyne rambled.

Ned chuckled in amusement. "Very well. And help him write his letter, he will explain it I'm sure." Ned instructed the girl. "Though it must be his writing."

"Yes My Lord." Jeyne curtseyed again. Ned smiled knowingly at her as he walked away, wondering how long it would be before he was arranging a wedding ceremony.

* * *

The Stony Shore had long been a desolate and sparsely populated place, even by the standards of the North. The new, drawn up borders of the lands that Robett Glover had been given were mixed, there was a large area of fishing villages in the southern regions, mainly located around the river that fed the Twin Lakes, and to the north of the land was a region of hills and bogs. All of it had for the most part been long been abandoned since House Fisher of the Stony Shore died out hundreds of years before.

Now though, it was starting to improve. Together with House Glover, House Stark had initiated the beginnings of a town located in the crevice most prominent cove of the Stony Shore, tentatively named Fishertown. Robb snorted, the North were clearly not the most imaginative with names, but it served its purpose. Fishing was currently the main industry, although a blacksmiths and some farms had been set up with coin from Winterfell. It was still early days though.

Slightly away from the town towards the North was the castle. Currently a simple wooden build, but as industry improved the wooden building would give way to stone, a simple stone drum castle ready to defend the West Coast.

One of the first things to be completed at both the sites were the docks. Far out to sea were a large host of both Ironborn ships that the North had reoutfitted in their own colours, and some Mallister ships from Seagard that had been generously offered. The main host were in the town boarding their boats, but the Lords and nobility had been invited into the castle and were due to dock their own ships from there.

Robb had taken the _Iron Victory_ for his own, and much preferred it without the black and gold Greyjoy sails. He stood on a cliffside outside of the castle walls, Grey Wind at his side, and he admired the first hint of naval power the North had had since King Brandon the Burner had been so enraged at his Father's disappearance he had the entire North's navy set aflame.

"It's a sight to behold for sure." A gruff voice was behind him. Robb turned and saw the newly raised Lord Glover walking up to him with Roose Bolton. The Lord of the Dreadfort still gave Robb the creeps, but he couldn't fault the man's effectiveness in driving out the Ironborn from the North. "Hard to believe it'll be me building more."

Robb nodded. "You've got plenty of materials in your lands now, and we will aid you with hiring ship builders."

Robett grinned. "So long as it's not taken out of the dowry."

Robb chuckled, remembering that one of his youngest sisters would be coming here to wed Robett's son, Gawen. "You'll have to speak with my Father about that."

"Aye, I'm sure I will." Robett nodded. He stared back out to sea. "You make those fuckers pay for what they did." He growled.

Roose Bolton nodded. "Lord Stannis will not be as generous as the King was a decade ago. I'm sure by the end of this the Ironborn will stay on their rocks for a generation."

"Aye." Robb nodded. "Balon Greyjoy is a dead man for sure, it's up to the rest to see reason sooner rather than later."

"I fought in the last war against them." Robett snorted in amusement. "Those dull fucks have no reason."

Robb grinned. "Then they'll die stupid."

Roose looked at Robb with an odd expression. "What of the Greyjoy ward? Is he going to be used as a message?"

Robb shook his head. "Theon has denounced the Ironborn as a people. Balon's invasion despite him being captured shows how little the man cares for his last son, no amount of threats will help."

"A pity." Roose commented. "5 minutes with me and I could have sent something to terrify Balon Greyjoy into submitting."

The image of his own body hanging atop the Twins, his skin peeled off, made Robb shudder. "Flaying is outlawed, Lord Bolton. As is unnecessary torture."

Roose just bowed his head. "As you say."

"I'm surprised your boy isn't here." Robett Glover noted, quickly changing the subject. "He did well in King's Landing I'm told."

Roose nodded. "Domeric is newlywed, and him being my only heir I encouraged him to stay in Winterfell with his new bride. Hopefully by the time we are finished in the Iron Islands Sansa has bled and Domeric will have an heir on the way."

Robb felt uncomfortable at how the man was viewing his sister but kept quiet at that. Robett nodded knowingly. "Aye, a lack of an heir is a worrying thing. My own brother, Galbart, needs to wed and quickly or Deepwood Motte passes to me, and oddly enough I don't want it."

Robb thought for a moment. "There are a few unwed maids in the North. Perhaps Jonelle Cerwyn."

Robett grinned. "You could name every woman from here to Dorne between the ages of 6 and 60 and he likely wouldn't pick one." Sighing, he said. "I'll have a word. He's staying in the North and we've time before he will be called to fight again. A good chance to settle down and sprout some young'uns."

Robb smirked, and he saw a man in Stark armour approaching them from towards the castle. "Lord Glover, Lord Bolton." He bowed his head. "Lord Robb, the boats are waiting for you."

"Very well Harwin, thank you." Robb said kindly. He turned to Lord Glover. "Don't be hesitant to ask Winterfell for anything you need. This area is to benefit the both of us after all."

Robett nodded. "Aye. Give those Ironborn cunts a kick from me, eh?"

Robb grinned. "We shall." He waited for Roose to say his farewells and the pair walked down towards the castle docks, with Robb being careful to put Grey Wind in the middle of them. He sat down in the rowboat that was to take them to the _Iron Victory_ and took a long look at the coastline of the North, already eager to step foot on it once more.

* * *

Robert Baratheon's vow to try to be a better King and husband was already off to a good start, the man himself thought. Whenever the whore had been in labour he had immediately organised a hunt, whereas this time, as Queen Walda Frey was in Maegor's Holdfast screaming, he was distracting himself in the Small Council.

It wasn't full. His hand of the King Stannis and new Master of Ships, Ser Davos Seaworth, were of course halfway around the Arm of Dorne by now on his way to fuck the Ironborn well and truly, while the new Grand Maester, a Tyrell great uncle of Lord Loras, was in the birthing chamber aiding his new wife. There were some new faces sat around the table, however. Lord Wyman Manderly had agreed to be the new Master of Coin and was forcing his way through Littlefinger's web of treason. Robert smirked at the memory of the man's rotting head on Traitor's Walk, knowing for sure he wouldn't miss the man. Varys' disappearance also meant that he had gone to Lady Olenna to be the new Mistress of Whispers. Renly was here, grinning as always in his role as Master of Laws, while his service in the war against the Lannisters meant Robert had finally given Ser Barristan his rightful role on the council as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.

"The Iron Bank have received the first payment." The fat Northerner stated. "And they have agreed that our next payment shall be in three moons time."

"Put it to one side." Robert said. He was so bored, but the realm had suffered while he was leaving the governance to Jon Arryn, and he didn't want to be remembered as badly as the madman he overthrew. "I don't want any delays with the Iron Bank, or they'll likely fund the Targaryen whore." He growled, some grievances wouldn't go away quickly. "What have we heard on her?"

Olenna shrugged. "Nothing. Since her savage husband's death we've heard absolutely nothing."

The problem of not having Varys' network, Robert grimaced. Olenna was capable, but for domestic issues mainly. "She would be mad to try and invade." Renly told Robert. "A girl half the world away is no threat."

"She's a Targaryen." Robert said plainly. "She'll always be a threat."

Renly shrugged disbelievingly. "What matters more for the time being though, is the training of new, loyal Gold Cloaks. With your agreement I'd have Ser Guyard Morrigen as the commander."

Robert new Ser Guyard, he was loyal for sure. "Arrange it." He nodded, turning to Ser Barristan. "How are the new knights settling in?"

The elder man bowed his head. "Well enough, Your Grace." The final three positions of the Kingsguard had been filled. Ser Barristan of course was still Lord Commander, and Ser Arys Oakheart and Ser Mandon Moore were the only remaining men from before Jon had been murdered. Ser Perwyn Frey had been inducted on campaign and was currently tasked as his half-sister's protector, while the final spots had been filled by Ser Robar Royce, Ser Rolland Storm and Ser Hugh of the Vale. One from a noble family that Robert knew well from his childhood, and the other two had been instrumental in retaking and holding King's Landing. "Ser Hugh still seems to be a bit… distracted, at his new cloak, but that happened to us all. We will instil discipline in time."

"Good." Robert smiled. "This is a new era for us all. No longer will people like Cersei Lannister, Varys or Littlefinger sneak and plot under our noses. We are the governance of the Seven Kingdoms, and we will prove capable."

The doors opened, and Robert glared at the intruder until he realised it was Ser Perwyn, a tired smile on his face. "Your Grace, My Lords, My Lady. I apologise for the intrusion, but the Queen has given birth. A healthy baby girl."

Robert noticed a couple of people look uncomfortably at one another as they heard the gender of the baby, but he was beaming. "A girl?" He stood up. "This meeting was basically over anyway. You're all dismissed. Barristan!" He barked, before he walked out and followed Perwyn to his wife's chambers.

Moments later and he was inside. The shutters had been closed and Fair Walda was lying weakly on the bed, sweat on her forehead and her hair was a mess. In her arms however, she held a bundle. "Your Grace." Grand Maester Gormon bowed. "A healthy girl."

"I'm sorry it's not a son." Walda said quietly.

Robert shook his head, sitting on the bed. "Nonsense." He said gently. She shifted so that Robert could grab his new child, and he held his breath as he went to look at her.

He needn't have worried. On her head was a thick tuft of jet-black hair, and her eyes were open and a dazzling royal blue. He grinned, offering the babe his little finger and she gripped it firmly. "I thought to name her Ellyn, a play on the name of the goddess in your family's history." Walda told him.

Robert nodded. "Ellyn, of the House Baratheon." He whispered. "Welcome to the world, Princess."

* * *

The heat was too much for Bran, so much so that as he and Stannis' other squire, Matthos Seaworth, were sparring all he wore on his chest was a loose-fitting white bed shirt. They were practicing with tourney blades, which Bran was excited about.

"Keep your shield up." Matthos explained, as he tapped his own blade on the shield for effect. "It is the difference between death and survival."

"Sorry." Bran muttered, getting back into his stance. They were aboard the _Fury_, Stannis' flagship, as they sailed past the Elbow, the southwestern point of Dorne. Soon they would dock in Oldtown to resupply and add the strength of the Arbor to their numbers, and Bran couldn't wait to see the famous city.

"Right, that will do for this morning." Matthos said. "You're getting better, just keep that left arm up at all times. We won't be deep in the battle, but we still might be targeted Brandon, the Ironborn don't like the _Fury_."

Bran had heard all about the First Greyjoy Rebellion, and how Stannis had smashed the Iron Fleet in the Battle of Fair Isle, a victory that had allowed the royal forces to win the war. He wasn't sure on what the plan this time was, but he knew that Stannis had to come up with something different. Bran handed Matthos the training blade and went to the barrel that was filled with drinking water, washing his face in it before he went to the side of the ship and leant on the handrail. He looked out and saw the coastline of Dorne fade away as they passed the Elbow, and though Bran couldn't see it he knew that they were sailing past the bay that led towards Starfall and the Torrentine river. The young Stark stared in awe, even though he couldn't see the famed castle of House Dayne, knowing that none of his siblings were likely to ever get this close.

"Your Father went there once." He heard Stannis' voice next to him. Bran immediately stood up straight and looked at the Baratheon Lord. "No need for that." Stannis instructed, staring out at Starfall too. "Even as a very young boy I longed of being a Dayne of Starfall, to wield Dawn and be the Sword of the Morning. I didn't want to be His Grace's younger brother, he did everything better than I did."

"I feel like that about Robb and Torrhen sometimes." Bran admitted. "Even Jon. All of them are better at something than I am."

Stannis looked at Bran, almost fondly. "And yet here you are, experiencing things that they will never experience."

"Robb is meeting us, isn't he?" Bran asked.

"I don't mean war with the Ironborn." Stannis said firmly. "Look around you. You're a Northman, yet how many Northmen come this far south? How many experience the heat of Dorne, the storms of Storm's End, court life in King's Landing? Even the dark halls of Dragonstone." Stannis placed a hand on Bran's shoulder. "Learn the lesson quicker than I did, Brandon Stark. You have been dealt a different hand than your brothers it's true, but it is by no means a lesser hand."

Bran nodded, realising that Stannis was projecting his own feelings onto the Stark. "I will, Lord Stannis." He said proudly. Stannis nodded once before he went off to speak with the helmsman. Bran looked back out at the horizon and smiled, imagining himself wearing the purple of House Dayne, the famous sword on his back.

* * *

**Reader interaction time! If anybody has an idea of what the new town and the new castle on the Stony Shore should be called, extra points if you can make it either Stark or Glover related, then I will pick my favourite one and that shall be included in the story.**

**I'm really enjoying writing Stannis and Bran interacting. It might be a little bit out of character for Stannis but in my eyes he's training the man who is going to succeed him as the Lord of Dragonstone and he wants Bran to be the sort of man that deserves Shireen, so he can open up a little more to the Stark.**

**Robert's first trueborn child is a girl then! While I will stand by the succession laws, she's a girl for a reason… We also have ourselves our full list of Kingsguard and Small Council members.**

**Theon's made his choice too, and while from now on he won't play a major role in this story, it will be an important choice for the fate of the Iron Islands.**

**Finally, and perhaps most importantly, Torrhen knows that Dany remembers. Of course he isn't sure on who Dany is at this moment in time, but it gave me a chance to show Torrhen and Mira's trusting and loving relationship.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Remember to stay safe!**

**Next time: The Royal Fleet face combat, while news from the Night's Watch reaches Winterfell…**

**Reviews:**

**ALPHAomega239: I suppose in a way the last one comes from the West, but it wasn't intentional. No, the main reason I have chosen who I have chosen is so there is a foot in the camp of most important places. There's one in the East with Dany, Olenna is in the South and now on the Small Council guiding them towards preparing for the wars Torrhen told her about. We have Sam at the Wall making sure that they don't lose themselves in fighting Wildlings to see where the true enemy is, and we also have Torrhen and Mira, the latter is there to give Torrhen the one person he can talk too properly about literally anything. This last person is important enough to make decisions for their own 'faction'.**

**Lord Villarreal of house Grand: I'm not familiar with that story, so I guess it's just coincidence!**

**George Christian810: For them it's perfectly normal, so when possible the heir to the throne married his closest sister. The Aemon in the story married a Velaryon however as Dany didn't have any daughters with Jon. As for the North, yes the agreement between Torrhen and Dany in Rises was adhered to and the North stayed independent under Cregan Stark and continued to be so long after his death at 103 years old. (I told you all I had a whole timeline!)**


	38. First Blood

**It seems frustrating to me that in a world of lockdowns and quarantines I'm currently at work more than usual, but that seems to be the reality we are faced with. As such my writing has dropped off a bit, so I'm thankful that I have another couple of chapters ready to keep uploading this story.**

**I want to reiterate yet again that it is important that you only leave your homes for essential reasons. As tough as this is, if we don't stop the spread of this virus by any means we can, then it will only be around for longer and there will be a higher chance that your loved ones could catch it.**

**That being said, it's time to escape the real world for a little while as we delve back into the world of Planetos. I own nothing that you recognise from the books or the show, with those characters and places belonging to either George R R Martin or HBO**

* * *

The ship sailed steadily in the overbearing sun of southern Essos, being aptly named _Balerion_ after the greatest of all the Targaryen dragons. Thankfully the _Balerion_ had come with a canopy over the quarterdeck, and Jon took advantage of the shade to stare over the starboard side, where in the distance he could see the ruins of Old Ghis. Most notable of the crumbling city was the remnants of the once Great Pyramid.

"It was once 33 stories high." Daenerys' voice sounded from beside him. Jon turned and noticed that the Targaryen had joined him. "The pyramid in Meereen was modelled after it. Now it's the home of bats and spiders. Tyrion Lannister spoke of it in great detail when we planned the invasion of Ghiscar."

Jon had to keep reminding himself that she knew some version of modern Westerosi nobles. "It must have been marvellous in its hay day." He commented.

Dany shrugged. "The one in Meereen is, that's all I know. You will see that soon enough."

That was another thing that Jon wasn't overly comfortable with. "I don't see why we cannot just go to Westeros now. My Father will accept you I am sure…"

"Your Father." Dany said quickly. "Sounds like an honest and good man. But he is also Robert Baratheon's best friend and loyal subject. If the usurper asked for Lord Eddard to put me in chains and march me down to King's Landing he would do so." She sighed. "You mean well, Jon, but you underestimate Baratheon's hatred of my brother, your father."

Jon gulped. "I'm the cause for him rebelling, thanks for reminding me." He muttered bitterly.

Dany shook her head and placed a hand on his shoulder. "No, Rhaegar was the reason. My Father was the reason. You were a happy occurrence." She said brightly. "But while Baratheon lives I can't be safe in Westeros, and for that to happen I need an army."

"And that's why we're sailing towards Astapor." Jon noted.

"The Unsullied are the finest warriors in the world." Dany remarked. "Loyal to a fault and unyielding in battle. Yes, I wish to obtain their loyalty once more."

"Are they not slaves?" Jon asked. Dany's face fell into a scowl.

"Slavery has no part in my world." Dany snarled. "But it has a place in the world right now. I aim to eradicate it, Jon. But again, to do that and to change Slaver's Bay for the better I need more than a handful of Dothraki, two Northmen, a Direwolf and three baby dragons. I will free the slaves in Slaver's Bay, and I will rule as Queen until the time comes that the dragons are big enough to affect the coming war in Westeros."

Jon smiled at her determination. "And I will be beside you all the way." He promised.

Dany beamed at him. "Thank you." She said honestly. She stared out towards Old Ghis. "I need to ask you to trust me when we get to Astapor." She said solemnly. "Some things I do may be questionable, but they are all for a reason. Can you do that?"

Jon nodded. "I can." He told her.

Dany smiled, and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you." She repeated, before she walked away from him, leaving the Bastard of Winterfell staring at her gormlessly as she went.

* * *

It was a rare sunny day for the North. While still cold, the sky was cloudless and there was no snow on the ground. Ned was stood up on the balcony once more, watching as Arya, Rickon and Robin Arryn were practicing their archery under the guidance of Torrhen. The two younger boys weren't very good yet still being very young, but Arya impressed Ned. Her accuracy was still shaky, but her determination was infectious, and it was inspiring the younger boys.

Cat was beside Ned watching them too, although she wasn't quite as pleased by the scene. "They're too young, Ned." She said quietly, so that only he could here. "Robin is barely strong enough to hold the bow, let alone fire it properly.

Ned shook his head. "By the time I was his age, I was in the Eyrie learning under his Father." Ned explained. "I had been helping Benjen with the sword since I was Rickon's age. He is plenty old enough."

"They're boys, Ned." She sighed. "Bran is off fighting a war, Torrhen and Robb have just returned from one… can you blame me for wanting to keep Rickon safe, he's not even 6 yet!"

"He won't be a boy forever." Ned told her calmly. "And Winter…"

"Is coming, yes you mention that a lot." Cat said sharply, although she had a smile on her lips at the familiar words. "I suppose that means more than it usually does now."

Ned nodded, turning to his wife. "All we do now is to protect our family. Rickon may be young yet, but by the time this war comes, if Torrhen is right about the timing, Rickon will be older than Bran is now and Robin will be 15, almost a man grown."

Cat sighed, looking down at them both again as Arya celebrated hitting the centre. Ned caught his daughter's eye and nodded, causing the girl to have a beaming smile. "She'll be fighting too, won't she?" Cat said sadly.

"If I had my own way, no." Ned admitted. "But Father tried to curtail Lyanna and she resented him for it. I would not do the same for Arya, not when it's clear she has talent." He noticed Cat swap sides as she stared into the main courtyard, where Sansa was walking with his two eldest son's wives and children. The Direwolves were also running about having a play, much to the annoyance of the workers. Ned moved so he was behind Cat and wrapped his arms around her. "We were lucky." He admitted. "We all came out unscathed this time. Not everybody did."

Ned was looking at Mira as he said it, the loss of Rodrik Forrester still affected Torrhen he knew, but selfishly Ned was glad it hadn't been Torrhen that had died.

"Bran is still out there, younger than even Torrhen was." Cat stated bluntly. "I worry about him."

"Lord Stannis won't send him into battle." Ned told her as if it were obvious. "And he has Summer with him. He will be safe."

"You can't know that." Cat said shakily.

"No." Ned admitted. "But I have faith." He watched as Balerion gave little Asher Stark a big lick with a smile on his face. "The Gods blessed us when they gave Torrhen another chance, I have to believe that they still do."

* * *

The catapults had been firing non-stop since the blockade of Pyke and Lordsport had begun. The Royalist armada had smashed into the Iron Fleet off of the coast of Banefort in the Westerlands, and though dozens of ships were lost in the process, Stannis had claimed it had been a victory, though the smell of the burning ships as the _Fury_ had passed them didn't seem very victorious.

He had been kept in the reserve on the _Fury_ as the rest of the fleet had fought, and it was the same again during the siege. Bran had rarely slept as the bombardment of burning missiles had continued throughout the nights as well. One of the towers of Pyke, the outermost one, had already collapsed, though, and though Balon Greyjoy supposedly wasn't in it, Bran could only hope the others would follow soon so he could get onto dry land sooner rather than later.

He was sat in his cabin with Summer reading a book late one night when another crash was heard, making him jump. Sighing, he put his book down and looked over at his sword leaning up against the wall by his bed. Sighing, he got up off the bed and went to pour himself a drink. As he took a swig, a bell began to ring. Confused, Bran looked at Summer. "Stay." He said to the direwolf. Bran walked over to the door of his cabin and opened it, only for the two Stark guardsmen on the door to look at him worriedly.

"Get inside, milord." One of them, Rogar, said hurriedly. The large man grabbed his shirt roughly and dragged him back through the doors, shutting them firmly. "We've been boarded." He explained.

Bran looked up at the bearded warrior. "What? How?" He asked.

Rogar shook his head. "I don't know milord, but my job is to keep you safe." He scouted the room and picked up Bran's sword. "Take this and unsheathe it just in case." Bran did as he was asked. "Now hide there." He pointed to one of the corners of the room by the door. Bran ran over there and sat down, his sword on his knees. Summer came over to be with him, standing up facing the door with his teeth bared. Rogar had his sword out ready, just in case.

The commotion was growing louder, and Bran winced as he heard steel clashing outside the door before a loud thud. He watched Rogar growing more agitated, when the door was kicked in. Rogar went to move towards the intruders, but he was thrown backwards towards the bed when a hand axe was thrown towards him, embedding itself in his head. In walked a woman, her hair was tangled, and blood splattered on her face and chest plate. "Baratheon isn't here." She said, as she pulled the axe out from Rogar's head. Summer snarled and charged. Wrapping his jaw around her wrist. The woman screamed as Summer dragged her to the floor before the Direwolf lunged for her neck, ending her.

"Yara!" A young man roared as he entered the room towards and rushed towards the wolf, only to force himself to stop as Summer snarled at him. Another, bigger and fiercer man barged past and went for Summer, but the Direwolf stopped him too by lunging up and tearing his throat out. That gave the younger Ironborn time to spot Bran however, and he grinned knowingly. "A baby Stark." He grinned, as he grabbed Bran by the shirt. "You're dead." He snarled. Before Bran knew it, the man with the Botley sigil of a fish on his chest plate instead of the Greyjoy kraken roared in pain, and Bran in his panic saw Summer latched onto his thigh. Squirming, Bran suddenly remembered he had a sword in his hand and thrust forwards. The Botley dropped him with an alarmed look on his face as his hands reached for the sword in his throat. Bran hit the floor with a thud, and he cried out in pain as the man fell on top of him.

"Help!" He cried. "Help me!"

He didn't know how long he was shouting for, but the man was eventually tugged off of Bran. The Stark sat up coughing, trying to get a full lungful of air when he saw Summer was his saviour, his golden grey fur covered in blood. Bran hugged the wolf tightly, not letting go until he heard a voice he recognised. "Brandon!"

It was Stannis, closely followed by Matthos Seaworth. "I'm here!" Bran cried. Stannis entered the cabin and had a look of relief on his face.

"Are you alright?" Matthos asked, kneeling before Bran and checking him over.

Bran nodded. "Summer… Summer saved me."

Stannis looked around at the bodies in the room, another couple having been added since Bran had last had a good view. He noticed the girl and grimaced at the sight of her mangled arm and neck. "Yara Greyjoy." He stated bluntly.

Bran's eyes widened. "Theon's sister?" He asked without thinking.

Stannis nodded. "Your wolf has done us a favour." Stannis said, before he saw the man that Bran had killed. "As have you it seems."

"I… I didn't know what else to do." Bran said, his breathing growing more erratic. "He grabbed me… and Summer distracted him… and I had the sword."

"You did well, Brandon." Matthos insisted kindly. "It was him or you."

Bran saw the body properly for the first time as he was helped up. "I killed him…" He whispered. He felt bile rise up and turned away, emptying the contents of his stomach over his bed. Stannis poured him some water and forced it into his hands. "Drink, take your time."

"What happened?" Bran asked.

Matthos scowled. "They used muffled oars and slipped through the lines."

Bran looked at Stannis. "These ones were looking for you."

That was new information for the Hand of the King, but he nodded. "They wanted to kill me and damage the siege efforts. A smart plan." Stannis admitted. "And impressive that they made it to the ship." He looked down at the bodies. "Matthos, throw the dead overboard. Reunite them with their god."

"My Lord." Matthos bowed.

"Not the Greyjoy though." Stannis told him. "She goes with us when we take the castle."

Matthos bowed again as he went to gather men, and Stannis sat on the bed, patting it to gesture for Bran to sit beside him. "My first true experience of death was my parents." He admitted. Bran knew the story and kept silent. "The first time I truly saw it up close was during the siege of Storm's End. My first actual kill in battle… that was during Balon Greyjoy's first rebellion. A young man that fought for House Hammerhorn on Great Wyk." He looked into the distance. "You will always remember his face."

"I just can't believe I killed him." Bran whispered, his hands were shaking still.

"You're young." Stannis said calmly. "Too young, probably. But Matthos was right, it was either him or you, and I for one am glad that you did. As will your family."

Bran gulped, thinking on what his Mother would think when she heard. "What happens now?" He asked.

"We step up the bombardment." Stannis said through angry, clenched teeth. "I want that island taken once and for all, and Balon Greyjoy in chains before me." He looked at Bran. "For you though, you rest and recover. This won't happen again, I promise you."

Bran appreciated that and stood up when Stannis did so. "I want to help where I can." He said firmly, looking around the room. "I can't stay here while…"

His eyes rested on the Botley man, and Stannis understood. "Do you remember the flag signals I taught you?" The Baratheon asked. Bran nodded. "Rest in my cabin for now, but at first light signal the ships to double the assault."

"Yes, Lord Hand." Bran said firmly. Stannis patted Bran on the back and led him outside. The deck was littered with bodies, both Baratheon and Ironborn. Bran had to step over a few before he was led to Stannis' own cabin. He settled himself down on the cot and stared up at the ceiling, the Botley man's eyes firmly implanted in his memory.

* * *

Torrhen had been summoned to Ned's solar and was internally running over everything that could possibly have gone wrong. Things had been nice and calm over the last few weeks since he had returned to Winterfell, and nothing ever stayed entirely positive for too long. As he approached one of the guards outside the room knocked on the door and announced him, and Torrhen entered, noticing Ned staring at a raven message.

"It's not from the South, is it?" He asked, hopeful that nothing had happened in Pyke.

Ned shook his head. "We have heard nothing since the Royal Fleet docked in Lannisport." He admitted. "No, this is from Castle Black."

Torrhen froze. He realised that Jon not being there could have knock on effects that could prove disastrous for everyone. "What's happened?"

"The veterans of the Watch, by their own standards of veteran, have gone on a great ranging." Ned explained. "Ser Jaime has arrived with his Westermen and they are currently being trained as brothers of the Night's Watch, and Victarion Greyjoy has been locked in an ice cell until he learns comradery. But it's the great ranging that worries me."

He handed Torrhen the letter and the younger Stark read it carefully. They already knew that Benjen was missing when Robb went over everything that had happened in the North while they were away in detail, but as Torrhen read the news that a pair of brothers had risen from the dead and looked to attack the Lord Commander's chambers, only to be stopped when Samwell Tarly had sounded an alarm and used the Lord Commander's Valyrian Steel sword on the bodies. Torrhen snorted when he read that bit.

"Is anything funny?" Ned asked, unamused.

"No… well yes." Torrhen corrected himself. "The thought of Sam Tarly being a hero to the Watch, he was an outcast before I died…" He trailed off in thought. "That's drastically different too."

Ned caught on. "And Lord Randyll died in the war, prematurely I presume."

Torrhen nodded. "The Gods are with us, Father." He whispered. "They knew Jon wouldn't be at the Wall and sent the only other man with the knowledge and capability to ensure the Watch's survival."

"Can he be trusted?" Ned asked.

Torrhen thought for a moment and nodded. "He was a self-confessed craven, but he was brave when he had to be. The first man in 8,000 years to kill a White Walker." Torrhen remembered having to drag him towards the crypts the night he died, however. "Although I wouldn't trust him in a proper battle." Another thought popped into his head at that moment. "He won't be able to mend ties with the Wildlings though, not like Jon."

Ned sighed. "Then that is a problem."

"I could do it." Torrhen told Ned, causing the Stark Lord to look at his son amusingly, before realising he was serious.

"No, it's too dangerous." Ned shook his head. "You don't know the area…"

"But I know the people." Torrhen argued back. "Well, some of them. Jon was instrumental in gaining their allegiance and he's in Essos. We need somebody to attempt it, and who better than the son of the Warden of the North?"

Ned didn't like the idea, in fact he hated it. "If Benjen knew the area so well and even he goes missing…"

"Uncle Benjen went further North than we should need to." Torrhen countered. "And I won't be stupid, any sign of trouble I'll head straight back."

Ned looked at Torrhen sadly. "Is there any other way?"

Torrhen shook his head. "Not unless you go."

Ned thought that Catelyn would chain him up in the dungeons if he even suggested it. He sighed, defeated. "We'll need to offer them something, an incentive to ally with us."

"Jon offered them the Gift." Torrhen remembered. "The land there is plentiful and fertile, and the Watch aren't using it."

Ned looked over at a map. "Lord Umber won't like it." He mentioned.

Torrhen snorted. "Lord Umber doesn't like anything unless he's killing or fucking it."

Ned chuckled. "Aye, I'll bring him around I'm sure." He sighed. "Are you sure about this? You don't know what you're walking in to."

Torrhen nodded. "It has to be me, I can feel it." He looked at the map again and noticed the new name for the hastily built port town on the Stony Shore scribbled onto the parchment. "I'll take a boat from Greyport up to the Frozen Shore. From there we can head towards the Frostfangs and scout from the mountains."

Ned nodded. "You'll take a dozen men, highly trained." It was an order. "And you can tell your Mother that it was your idea."

Torrhen groaned, bracing himself for the argument that was to follow. "I wonder who will react worse, Mother or Mira?"

* * *

The answer to that question was Mira. The young Forrester woman was eerily silent when Torrhen told her the plan, though her eyes showed the rage that was within.

"You've just come back." She stated plainly, stood up in their room just out of reach. "And now you're putting yourself in danger once more."

Torrhen sighed as he sat on the bed. "We need to bring them into the realm, Mira. They have numbers that we can't afford to lose…"

"Then send somebody else." Mira tried. "I don't want to lose you to those savages."

Torrhen chuckled. "They're not that different to you or I really. A bit dirtier and a bit ruder maybe, but at the end of the day they are men and women too, and if we don't help them it makes our eventual task that much harder."

Mira shook her head sadly. "We have a newborn, Tor. He needs his Father."

Torrhen stood up so that he was inches away from his wife. He opened his arms out inviting her for a hug, and after a moment of thought Mira accepted it. "Once the war is won, we will have plenty of time for peace I swear to you. But right now things are far too important to leave to chance. I can't let the Night King gain over 100,000 men because we were too slow to act no matter how much I would rather stay with you and Asher."

Mira sighed loudly. "You won't be persuaded, no matter what I do, will you?" She looked up at him, pleading with her eyes.

Torrhen shook his head. "This is just too important. With Jon in Essos and Robb in the Iron Islands there is nobody else." He kissed the top of her head. "Come to bed, I won't be going for a while as we prepare the journey anyway, and I plan on spending as much of that time with you and Asher as I possibly can."

Mira smiled up at him, pulling him in for a gentle kiss before Torrhen pulled her down on the bed, ignoring her giggles as she found herself on top of him.

* * *

**It's a bit of a shorter chapter today I know, but some important things happen. Torrhen is about to head on yet another adventure, this time he'll brave the cold snows of North of the Wall.**

**Dany and Jon also keep bonding, that will be explored more in the next chapter and beyond but it's nice to see Dany have an actual friend as she makes her journey.**

**The main part of this chapter in my eyes however is Bran's first kill. I was inspired a bit by 'Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl' for that scene, mainly the part where Governor Swann (played by the High Sparrow himself) shut himself away in the cabin.**

**Please be sure to stay safe and stay indoors unless absolutely necessary, and I will be back at some point next week with the next chapter, where we will see the culmination of the Second Greyjoy Rebellion as well as Jon's reaction to the slavers of Astapor.**

**Reviews:**

**DarylDixon'sLover: Nobody in their right mind would risk that name again after the last time.**

**Supremus85: Because the Greyjoy's aren't going to be ruling once the war is over, the Ironborn wouldn't have him and he wants nothing to do with any of them after they went to war despite him still being a hostage.**

**Senor Siete: I'm sorry to hear about your job. If you are looking for another one, then try out your local supermarkets, or if you can drive, delivery services. There have been a large number of places advertising for those that have been affected as you have. I'm honestly touched to see that this brings a smile to your face and I hope I can continue doing so. **

**Freakdogsflare: Bran will be the de facto Lord of Dragonstone after Stannis dies. Robett Glover was announced as the Lord of the Stony Shore back in Chapter 11.**


	39. Balon's Doom

**As a quick note, and an addition to the chapter with this paragraph being added a few days after uploading. Any guests that are leaving multiple negative reviews with no constructive criticism will just have those reviews be deleted. If you want to be constructive, brilliant. If you have a genuine issue with the direction I'm taking this story and want to moan about it over multiple chapters, either stop and ask yourself why you are putting yourself through a story that you hate, or create an account so that I can discuss it with you over PM. I'm a tolerant person, but the spamming of the reviews section just to tell me that the plot idea 'never works', you don't like my decisions and think it's bad writing and that Torrhen is a moron just aren't helpful. If you don't like it, then either stop reading when you realise that you don't like it or discuss it with me privately where I can actually respond and discuss with you. Don't keep reading until the end and just spam me with negative reviews.**

**More positively however, and I apologise that I didn't say this last time, but a big thank you to reader 'chirilaalexandru16' who gave me two very good names for the castle/town on the Stony Shore. The name of the castle won't be the one you suggested, although that will be used for the other castle being built in the Gift. Also thanks to Floxy-Floof, who inspired the Stony Shore castle name. Those reviewers who have taken to the story and offer ideas are part of why I love doing this.**

**Part of this chapter is adapted from a scene in Season 3 Episode 1 'Valar Dohaeris'.**

**I hope you're all doing your part to stop the spread of Covid-19. It sounds silly in theory, but you seriously are saving lives if you simply stay inside.**

**I own nothing recognisable from the books or the show, those things are the property of George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

"Kessar." Jon said slowly.

Dany giggled, shaking her head. "Kessa." She repeated herself again.

"Kessa." Jon managed, and Dany grinned.

"Very good!" She exclaimed. "Now you've got yes, no is 'Daor'."

They were both sat down on the bed in Dany's master chambers. Jon was being taught High Valyrian, with Dany telling him that all Targaryen's knew the language like the back of their hands. He was picking it up, but likewise with Dothraki it was taking a while. "Daor."

Dany smiled. "That's right."

Jon leant back. "It was Torrhen that picked it up quickly. I was simply a bastard then, so I didn't need to learn any other language, I just went outside and sparred instead."

Dany nodded. "It impressed me the first time I met him, back then." She admitted. "He had travelled to Meereen looking for an alliance after House Bolton had taken over. He had only just been introduced to me and before I could speak he informalised his name before adding 'let us not argue over titles'."

"He's never been one to use flowery words, normally straight to the point if he can be." Jon nodded. "It still seems odd to me, you knowing him."

Dany chuckled lightly. "I can only imagine." She sighed. "For me it was so long ago now, but we helped one another through dark times and came out stronger for it. He introduced me to you, and you got me to focus on the true fight to the North, even when all the Northern Lords were against it he stood by me and aided me."

Jon recognised the look in her eye. "Did you love him?" He asked quietly.

"No." Dany said honestly. "We used one another, nothing more. I have only ever truly loved one man in my life, Jon. The man I married by choice."

Jon felt awkward, knowing she meant the other version of him. "I imagine you're looking forward to seeing him again."

"As are you, I would hope. He is still your family." Dany said pointedly. "Your Lentor."

Jon groaned. "Is that another Valyrian phrase?"

Dany smirked. "It means family. An important word for the last two living Targaryen's."

"Lentor." Jon copied, and Dany's nod confirmed he had it right. "Aye, I'm looking forward to seeing them once more, but I came here for a reason. I came here for you."

Dany smiled, reaching out and touching his cheek. "And I am grateful, truly. I'm not as lonely as I was in Essos before." She removed her hand then smirked at him. "What is 'fly'?" She asked, continuing the lesson.

* * *

"So I'll ride for Greyport, take me and my men along the coast until we get to here." Torrhen explained, pointing at the cove on the Frozen Shore. "Then we will make our way over to the Skirling Pass and hopefully find Mance Rayder."

Ned nods. "Very well. All your supplies are ready, you can leave at dawn if you wish."

"Aye, the sooner the better." Torrhen sighed. "Mira still doesn't like it."

"Neither does your Mother. But you were right, this is necessary." Ned told him. "By bringing the Wildlings south we limit the army of the dead drastically." He handed Torrhen a few sheets of parchment. "Those are my terms. I've numbered them, start with the first one and negotiate down to the third if needed, but they cannot pass if they don't agree to both the boundaries, and to keep the King's Peace if they venture into our lands, that is non-negotiable."

Torrhen nodded his acknowledgement. "I understand."

Ned smiled and clapped his hand on Torrhen's shoulders. "I'm proud of you for stepping up here, never forget that."

Torrhen smiled awkwardly. "Somebody had to."

"But you didn't need to volunteer to go." Ned said plainly. "Go on, go and spend time with the others before you go. I've taken up enough of your time."

Torrhen grinned, hugging his Father briefly before he ran out of the room. He made it to the courtyard and saw Domeric Bolton riding around with Arya chasing after him. Sansa was sat to one side, smiling at the pair. "He gets on well with everyone, it seems."

"He's not his Father." Sansa smiled, immediately recognising the voice. "He's a good man."

Torrhen knew that. "You'll be happy, I know it."

Sansa nodded, but her smile faded. "He wants to come with you."

"What?"

Sansa repeated herself. "He wants to come with you North of the Wall. He feels that a Stark and a Bolton together will be a message that even the Wildlings can't ignore."

Torrhen had to admit that he understood the logic. "What about his Father? Lord Bolton won't want…"

"Lord Bolton isn't here." Sansa said firmly. "He's hundreds of miles away in the Iron Islands." She sighed. "He's thought this through, Tor. Even when I asked him not to go."

Torrhen smirked. "Nobody wants us to go, but it's the right thing to do. We need them as allies, Sansa. The alternative could kill us all." He looked on as Domeric and Arya were still racing around, the girl cackling with laughter as she almost knocked a worker over. "He can come, he's right, even in the North some will have heard of the animosity between Stark and Bolton, this would do us good."

"I'd like to go too." Another voice came from behind them. Cregan Glenmore had a quiver full of training arrows. "The mission is vital, and I could help."

Torrhen grinned, gripping Cregan's forearm in a handshake. "You're more than welcome my friend."

Domeric took that moment to ride back to the stables with Arya, dismounting and walking over towards them. "Are the preparations all set?" He asked, unsubtly.

Torrhen grinned. "Aye, we leave at dawn. So you best gather your warmest furs if you are sure about coming too."

Dom looked between Sansa and Torrhen with a small grin. "I'm sure." He said firmly, shaking Torrhen's hand eagerly.

"Very well. Rest up tonight." Torrhen explained to them both. "It's going to be a long journey."

* * *

Bran hadn't realised how much he had missed dry land until he first stepped foot on the dirt paths in Lordsport. He was fully armoured up, with his own helmet, his steel gorget that he hated as it was tight on his neck, and he even had a small dagger in his sword belt along with his sword. He was in Stannis' party as they walked through the cheering ranks of royalist forces. As they got closer towards what remained of the castle of Pyke, Bran noticed that the southern forces had given way to Northmen, and he was excited to see Stark armour.

Outside the castle, he noticed the Stark banners flapping furiously in the heavy wind. He grinned when he saw the curly mop of a haircut that his oldest brother had as Robb was stood over a kneeling old man with scraggly long hair, Balon Greyjoy. Summer immediately rushed over towards Grey Wind, whilst the rest of them stood at attention, waiting.

"Lord Stannis." Robb greeted formally, his face trained on Balon with a scowl. "The traitor Balon Greyjoy."

Stannis looked between the two. "Excellent work, Lord Robb." Stannis commented. He stepped towards the kneeling Greyjoy. "Here we are again, another failed rebellion and you are on your knees yet again." Balon said nothing, he only spat at Stannis' feet. Robb kicked the old man in the chest, causing him to keel over. He was hauled up to his knees by a man in Bolton colours, and Stannis stepped closer. "Was it worth it?"

Balon said nothing yet again. "Answer him, Greyjoy." Robb growled.

Stannis held his hand up to stop any further physicality. "Take him to the _Fury_. Lock him up in the cell with his daughter and have 5 men guarding him at all times." The order was obeyed and Balon was dragged away without too much resistance, he only scowled at Stannis as he was led past the Baratheon. "Ser Davos." Stannis barked, and the Onion Knight was soon at his side. Bran went and walked towards his brother, who enveloped him in another hug.

"You're safe." Robb whispered, relieved. "Everyone will be thrilled to hear it."

"What happened?" Bran asked excitedly. "One moment we were simply sieging as normal, and the next we saw flames and fighting on the island!"

Robb grinned. "We knew you had Lordsport secured, so when our own ships arrived we sailed with muffled oars at night towards the other side of the island and took the Ironborn from behind. The castle was damaged, and we managed to take it and capture Balon." Bran grinned at the image, thinking how glorious it must have been. "What about you? How have you fared."

Bran gulped. "Our ship was attacked almost a week back. Summer killed Yara Greyjoy and I… I killed a man."

Robb looked sadly at Bran. "You had no choice." He said kindly, kneeling before Bran to be eye level. "Gods… you're only 11."

"It was scary." Bran admitted. "But if I hadn't…"

Robb knew what he meant and brought Bran in for another hug. "You did well, even though I wish you could stay away from all of this."

Bran shook his head. "You are fighting, Torrhen is fighting. I need to do my part."

Robb smirked at his younger brother's determination. "Aye, you'll be a fine knight one day, I know it." Robb ruffled Bran's hair, causing the younger Stark to complain.

"Lord Robb." Stannis' voice stopped the brothers from their informal greeting. "How many are you?"

"A few thousand." Robb shrugged.

Stannis looked up towards Pyke. "House Greyjoy is finished now. His Grace cannot afford to be generous this time, so we must tear the castle down."

Robb nodded. "I'll bring my ships around and we will begin the bombardments at your orders."

Stannis nodded. "Very good. Come, Brandon. There will be time to catch up later."

"My Lord." Bran nodded. He smiled at Robb, who hugged him again quickly before he walked away with Roose Bolton.

Stannis walked alongside him as they walked back towards Lordsport. "Do you know why we are doing this?" He asked. "Tearing down the castle?"

Bran did. "To send a message. Do not defy the King."

Stannis nodded. "Pyke was the stronghold of the Lords of the Iron Islands for three centuries. That means something, even to the Ironborn. They'll choose their own leader no doubt, but they will never have the same strength as they did with Pyke."

* * *

Torrhen was woken up by a servant before dawn the next day. Mira was still sleeping beside him, so he tried to get dressed quietly, but after he pulled his black leather Stark armour over his head he dropped his belt on the stone floor, and his wife stirred.

"I didn't mean to wake you." Torrhen said quietly.

"I'm glad you did." Mira said softly, stretching.

Torrhen grinned as the covers fell as she did so, exposing her upper body. He walked over towards her and gave her a long kiss. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Mira nodded, placing her hand on Torrhen's cheek, allowing him to lean into it. "Just make sure this is worthwhile." She said quietly.

"It will be." Torrhen promised. He kissed her once more and moved to pull his boots on. Once that was done he went looking for his cloak, only to see that Mira had it in her arms, having pulled a nightdress on. "Thank you." He said, allowing her to place it over his shoulders. He tied it in place and stood to face her. "How do I look?"

Mira looked up and stroked his cheek, the stubble itching the back of her hand. "By the time you come back to me you'll likely have a beard."

Torrhen chuckled. "I have missed it."

Mira kissed him once more. "Go and see Asher, I'll get changed and meet you in the courtyard."

Torrhen obeyed the command, stepping back and bowing. "As My Lady commands."

He turned with a grin and left the room to go to the one next door, where his son was sleeping in his cot. He leant on the wooden railing and stared down at the sleeping baby. He kissed his non-gloved hand and placed it on the babe's forehead, before he turned and left quietly, careful not to wake Asher up.

As he made his way down to the courtyard he was surprised to see a gathering of people there to wave him off. He hugged Arya tightly, making her promise to keep training with the bow, and he hugged both his Mother and his Father goodbye too. Lastly though he stood in front of both Mira and Sansa, the latter of who had already said farewell to Domeric.

"Don't die." Sansa said firmly.

Torrhen chuckled. "I don't plan on it."

Sansa grinned, and caught him in a hug. "I love you." She whispered emotionally.

"And I you." Torrhen whispered back, stroking her hair gently. Sansa pulled away with tears in her eyes as she moved to stand by Catelyn. Mira was also looking tearful. "I'll be back before you know it." He told his wife.

"Just come back." She stated. Torrhen nodded and kissed his wife, before his new horse, a black Garron, was brought to him. Obsidian was a destrier and bred for war, while North of the Wall Torrhen would need a sturdy beast that could handle the snow and ice. He looked around him and saw 11 other men, including Domeric Bolton and Cregan Glenmore, along with a wagon full of dozens of sacks containing Dragonglass arrows and daggers.

With a final nod towards his gathered family, Torrhen turned to one of the Stark guards in the party. "Raise the banners." He said, and soon enough the black direwolf of Torrhen's branch of House Stark, the flayed man of House Bolton and the white, drawn bow and arrow on a brown field of House Glenmore were all raised. Torrhen nodded, waving once more to his family before shouting. "Ride on!" and kicking his Garron into movement.

* * *

For the first time in a long time, King's Landing was a city that felt positive. Trade was returning and the people were happier than they had been for a very long time. Even Olenna Tyrell was pleased. Loras had pulled through and his wife Leonette had birthed a son they had named Lyonel, meaning that for the time being the succession of House Tyrell was secure. The King was also enthralled in newborn bliss and he doted on his new daughter every chance he could, yet there was always one topic that would bring rage straight back to Robert Baratheon.

"There is news of Essos, the Targaryen girl is making a name for herself on the far side of the Dothraki Sea it seems." Lady Olenna explained. "Her husband is dead, as is her unborn son." She had heard a bit more of course, but if Ned Stark himself hadn't told Robert that his supposed bastard had travelled halfway across the world to travel with Daenerys Targaryen, then she didn't see the need to do so either.

She noticed Ser Barristan looking uncomfortable at the news, but everybody else in the room seemed relatively pleased. "Well that's fantastic, is it not?" Renly asked.

"She also seems to have done the impossible and hatched three dragons." Olenna said plainly.

The council fell silent at that, before Wyman Manderly laughed. "Three dragons? The dragons are all gone! How preposterous."

"Can this be confirmed?" Robert asked, his eyes narrowing.

Olenna shrugged. "Perhaps when they arrive at a major port city then news could spread towards us. Until then, all I have is the word of one Essosi sailor."

The King was grimacing. "Dragons…" He muttered. "Fucking dragons. Confirm it, Lady Olenna. If this is true then I want all of them dead. The girl, the dragons, all of them."

Olenna knew she couldn't do that, but she dutifully bowed her head and agreed to it anyway. The King stood up, and Olenna appreciated how his figure was drastically thinner than when he had hosted the tournament for Ned Stark. He was still rather large but getting thinner. "Ser Barristan, I need to hit something."

The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard stood up as well and followed the King out. Renly Baratheon followed soon after, and soon it was just the old lady and the overweight Northerner that was left in the Small Council chamber. Olenna was just about to depart when Lord Manderly spoke, his voice less jovial than usual when in public, and with a firm undertone to it. "You are aware the dragons cannot die, nor can the girl." Olenna looked around in surprise, and Lord Manderly had a knowing smirk on his face. "My Granddaughter is the mother of the future Lord of Winterfell, Lord Stark has shared things with me. I know about the girl, I know about who is with her. I know that you know that as well, My Lady."

Olenna was impressed. "My dear boy, it seems I have underestimated you."

Wyman nodded. "Most do when they see me, Lady Olenna. It gives me a certain advantage."

Olenna smirked. "Then come, Lord Manderly." She held out her arm for him to take. "It seems we have much to discuss."

* * *

Astapor was a hot city. Even as the sun was barely rising in the sky Jon felt overwhelmed. He left his cloak on the ship when they departed for the docks and even then he felt too warm. They had sent word ahead as to their business in Astapor, and together with Jorah and Dany the trio were greeted at the docks by one of the Good Masters of Astapor, Kraznys mo Nakloz, and his translator. The Good Master led them over the city walls speaking a bastardised version of Valyrian. Dany had told him earlier to not worry about what the man was saying, and Jon was glad, as he couldn't understand him properly anyway.

Thankfully, the translator was on hand as they walked towards a gate, where a number of the slave soldiers were standing at attention. "The Unsullied have stood here for a day and a night with no food or water." Jon felt uncomfortable as he looked at them, placing his hand on Ghost's neck for comfort. "They will stand until they drop. Such is their obedience."

They walked through the gate and approached a small host of Unsullied, and Jon's quick count came to 72 of the slave warriors. He felt ill knowing that they were all likely starving and thirsty, but he kept silent, knowing that Dany had wanted him to trust her. As they approached, the Unsullied moved to create a pathway through the middle of their formation. "They may suit my needs." Dany said formally, a tone Jon wasn't used to. "Tell me of their training."

The translator, Missandei, spoke to the Good Master, and he spoke back as they ascended a platform, a better view of the slave soldiers. Jon noted their distinct lack of movement and was impressed at their discipline. "They begin their training at five. Every day they drill from dawn to dusk until they have mastered the short sword, the shield, and the three spears. Only one boy in four survives this rigorous training." The translator told them in the common tongue. The Master said something else before the translator added. "Their discipline and loyalty are absolute. They fear nothing."

"Even the bravest men fear death." Jorah commented.

The translator did her job, and the Master responded. Ghost turned to face the Astapori, a silent snarl forming. Jon placed his hand reassuringly on the Direwolf, but he succeeded in scaring the Master.

"Master Kraznys asks you to keep your wolf under control." The translator said, her eyes wide in fear.

Jon looked at Dany, who he knew by her face could understand everything that was being said and wasn't impressed. Dany just nodded once, and Jon gripped Ghost's fur. "Calm down, Ghost." He said quietly. The Direwolf stopped his snarl, but his eyes were trained on Kraznys.

"My Master also says that the Unsullied are not men, so do not fear death." The girl said. Kraznys said something else in a dismissive tone and began descending the platform. "He begs you attend to this carefully."

Kraznys began explaining something as he walked up to the nearest Unsullied and gestured for him to move forwards. The soldier did so, and Kraznys moved the shield and spear out the way before taking the Unsullied's knife and exposing his nipple. Jon looked at Dany in horror, but she just stood their stone faced. Jon swallowed down his horror and continued to look on, his hand firmly gripped in Ghost's fur. Kraznys then dismissed the Unsullied soldier and turned back to them, explaining something.

"To win his shield, an Unsullied must go to the slave marts with a silver mark, find a newborn, and kill it before its mother's eyes. This way, my master says, we make certain there is no weakness left in them." The translator explained.

"That's barbaric." Jon said before he could stop himself. The translator then said something to Kraznys, and they spoke for a moment before she responded to him.

"It is to ensure that the Unsullied remain strong against all odds that may face them." The woman explained.

Jorah nodded. "We've all heard of the Three Thousand of Qohor." The Mormont explained.

"How many are available?" Dany asked quickly.

Kraznys listened to the translation and looked deadpan at Daenerys, holding eight fingers up. "8,000." The translator confirmed. After Kraznys said something else, the translator added. "Master Kraznys asks that you please hurry, many other buyers are interested."

Kraznys left them at that point, and moments later Dany, Jon and Jorah were walking back towards the Astapor harbour. "Do we need them?" Jon asked.

Dany nodded. "Forget for a moment my mission to eradicate slavery from the world, do you remember what I told you about rescuing my friends?" Jon nodded. "Missandei, the translator, was the greatest of them. I would do this a thousand times if it meant rescuing her from being molested and raped by that vile man night after night."

Jon suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for the translator. "You have a plan then?"

Dany smirked as she walked. "What are our House words, Jon? Once I have an army I have no need of these slavers." Jon simply grinned knowingly.

* * *

**Even though we are still in the Season 2 timeline, Dany's season 3 arc is beginning with the purchase of the Unsullied. Re-watching that scene reminded me of how detestable Kraznys was in the show. It's also nice to explore a good relationship between Jon and Dany and to help that grow in a way that the show could never have pulled off in such a short amount of time.**

**The Olenna stuff was really fun to write. She needs to be both useful to Robert, but able to ensure that he doesn't accidentally ruin the future that everyone is striving for. I did have to give her a bit of an ally however, and who better than Wyman Manderly!**

**The Ironborn rebellion is also over, I hope I've done that well enough, but admittedly the Ironborn are some of my least favourite parts of the show so I was eager to wrap it up quickly. It did give me a good chance to reunite Robb and Bran though, and Bran needed to talk to family about what happened last chapter.**

**Finally, Torrhen is off to treat with Mance Rayder. It's a few chapters away yet but their meeting is the largest block of writing in my entire plan, so it should be a great one to write!**

**Again, I hope you are all doing your bit and staying safe, and I shall be back next week with another chapter, where Jaime takes his vows, and Sam Tarly reappears with a plan…**

**Reviews:**

**George Cristian810: In this society it's fairly normal for Valyrian's however, even if we think it's disgusting due to our own modern beliefs. Yes they may be mad, but they may be great as well as some Targaryen's in history were.**

**ZabuzasGirl: Sam remembered in Chapter 27, there was a scene from his perspective which showed that he did.**

**J.F.C: That will probably be the eventual plan, but for now all they needed was the basics to gain both more loyalty from House Glover and the Western houses, and the ability to have a naval presence in both of their border seas. The Iron Islands will have a regent from the mainland eventually as well as restrictions put on them in terms of number of ships etc, though that will be revealed when Robert gets his prisoner. **

**Chuck Moloney: That would take far too much time however if done correctly, way longer than the few years they have before the real war comes. No, Torrhen doesn't miss it. He knows he wasn't a great King due to his constant moving around the world and he's more than happy to leave the governance of the entire North to Robb after Ned dies, all Torrhen wants is his family safe and a peaceful life with Mira.**

**Foxy-Floof: I sort of used your Rimestone idea for the keep instead, but I gave it a name that fit the area more.**


	40. Black Brothers

**I must admit I was a bit disappointed with the number of reviews last time out, but I want to thank the ones who have reviewed consistently over the duration of the story. You guys keep me motivated. **

**But anyway, on to this chapter. This is the most I've deviated from the original plan of a chapter, with a couple of 'adapted show scenes' changed to go elsewhere in the world. I hope you enjoy it, as you will see how I've changed things for the areas of the show that suffer without certain characters being involved.**

**I own nothing but Torrhen and any OC's. Everything recognisable either belongs to George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

As dawn broke over the skyline of Astapor on the day that Dany was to agree to buy 8,000 Unsullied warriors, Jon was simply in awe of the bright colours that glistened off of the statues of the city. He was back on the _Balerion_ and so could see a large portion of the city. It was so different to the dawns of Winterfell, although Jon had to be honest and admit that he often missed those.

"It's different." Jory Cassel's voice sounded beside him. Jon smirked, knowing that Jory knew exactly what he was thinking about.

"Am I that obvious?" Jon asked.

Jory shook his head. "I miss it too." He looked out over the ship's rails. "I often ask myself why we are still here, why we aren't in Winterfell."

"Winterfell will always be my home." Jon commented. "And it likely will be again one day for you, but we are experiencing something that most Northman dare not to even dream about here. When you have children one day, you can tell them true stories about the Dothraki Sea, about Pentos and Lhazar. About Qarth and Astapor."

"It's hot and the people here are barbaric." Jory said bluntly, causing Jon to laugh. "I'm serious, the slave soldiers… how they are trained. It isn't right."

"No, it's not." Jon admitted. "But they are the finest soldiers in the world for a reason."

"And we are encouraging it." Jory sighed. "Why can't we find a ship to Westeros, Jon? We've been here enough, we've seen enough."

Jon knew that he couldn't, and he looked up by the wheel and saw Dany letting her dragons fly around her body. She had the brightest smile on her lips and her eyes shone in the morning sunlight. She was beautiful. "Because the mission is yet to be done." Jon admitted, catching Dany's eye and smiling up at her. "We're here to keep Daenerys alive until her dragons are big enough to help us in the great war. Without the dragons, we don't stand a chance."

Jory nodded. "As you say. I trust you, Jon. But I'm not comfortable with slave soldiers."

Jon smiled. "They won't be slaves for long, we just have to trust that Daenerys knows what she's doing."

* * *

The large group of recruits had been gathered in the Castle Black courtyard, and Jaime Lannister sat amongst his fellow former prisoners listening to Ser Alliser Thorne drone on. He was barely listening, even as the assignments were being given out. Many of the men were to be rangers as befit their skills at arms while a handful of others went to the builders or the stewards. It was only after the others disappeared to their respective orders that Jaime realised that he hadn't been chosen as anything. He stood up questioningly and walked over to Thorne. "What am I to be?"

Thorne looked at the Lannister coolly. "Dead, if I had my way." Thorne growled. Another man behind him cleared his throat and Thorne gritted his teeth. "You, Ser Jaime, are to be the new Master of Arms while I take up the role of acting Lord Commander while Lord Commander Mormont is away. You are to train these men to the best of your ability. Can you do that?" Jaime just nodded. "Good, now go and swear your vows, Kingslayer." Thorne snarled and walked away.

Jaime digested the information as he looked around at all of the men being given their assignments. He realised that they would take a while, so he walked quickly towards the empty sept of Castle Black. Spotting the Septon, he made his way over.

"Ser Jaime." Septon Cellador muttered, likely nursing yet another hangover. "Is it time?"

Jaime nodded. "I'm here to speak my vows." He said coldly, thinking on the whole host of vows he had sworn in his lifetime. That line of thinking brought Cersei back to mind however and he felt an ache in his heart.

Cellador nodded. "Very well, kneel before your chosen deity and say the words."

Jaime nodded and looked around. The statues weren't overly large, but they were still larger than your average man. He noticed the Father and Mother and suddenly felt self-conscious. The Smith looked odd, and he had never truly liked the Crone. He thought about kneeling before the warrior for a moment, but suddenly another statue caught his eye. He walked towards the Maiden and stared at her wooden face, carved incidentally to look so much like Myrcella. He sighed, and knelt, staring up into the face of the Maiden. "Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honour to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come."

As soon as he said the last words, he felt as if a huge weight had just been lifted. He wasn't Jaime Lannister the Kingslayer anymore, no matter what the others threw at him. He was Ser Jaime, Knight of the Night's Watch.

"You knelt as a man, a prisoner and a sinner." Cellador spoke. "Rise now as Ser Jaime, brother of the Night's Watch." Jaime did as he was bid and got to his feet. "Congratulations."

Jaime just nodded, not taking his eyes away from the statue of the Maiden. Silently, he made another vow. He would do better and ensure that his children could be proud of him. He would keep these vows, and one day he hoped the pair could see him in a good light.

* * *

Things were coming along nicely for the North. Ned was sat down in his solar looking over the latest reports from all of the building sites in his lands. Moat Cailin as always was coming along steadily, and Ser Wendel Manderly had reported that the Winter's Tower, the one for House Stark and the minor vassals surrounding Winterfell such as the Cerwyn's, the Hornwood's, the Tallhart's and many other minor Northern houses, would be completed within the month. Ned was pleased at the progress being made to sure up the southern borders.

His Northern borders were also more secure judging by the latest letter from Torrhen Karstark. The gold had arrived in good order and the foundations for the new castle that Ned had named 'Wolfswatch', a nod to both the Starks and the Night's Watch, had been laid in the Gift close to the King's Road and the boundaries for the walls had been marked. Nodding, he scribbled out a response saying that Rickon would foster at Karhold after the coming Long Night was won.

It was the West however that gave him the most headaches. Greyport was a self-functioning town for the moment, although with the Ironborn Rebellion happening no trade outside of the North had appeared as of yet. The castle, Shorestone, was also starting to be built in stone rather than the hasty wooden shelter that had been erected. Robett Glover in his letter had told Ned that Torrhen and his company had arrived and left again, while the Lord of Stony Shore also reminded Ned about the unannounced betrothal however, and that was what was playing on his mind. He scribbled out a response, confirming the betrothal was still in place and making an offer to foster his future son by law Gawen Glover at Winterfell. He had left the space where he named Gawen's future wife blank however, not sure on what he should put down. Sighing, he signed the letter and left it on his desk, rising out of his chair to take a walk around his castle.

As Ned entered the courtyard he greeted as many people as he could. He spoke with Farlen and his daughter about the kennels, as well as Harwin the stablemaster. He chuckled as Rickon and Robin Arryn raced around the courtyard being chased by Shaggydog, grateful to see that Robin looked like a new person compared to the cowering boy that he had bundled onto the ship _Frostfang_ over a year before. He had filled out a bit more and was a lot more physically active than before.

"You two! Don't you want to learn?" He heard Arya's voice shout over the hustle of the workers. "Arthur is getting impatient!"

That was another development. His children's good relations with the Glenmore family of Rillwater Crossing had encouraged Ned to get the heir, Arthur, into Winterfell to garner better relationships with an important defensive castle on the Saltspear. The defiance of Cregan Glenmore had been key in the defence of the North, and Ned had seen to reward that by taking in the adult Arthur as his master archer, teaching boys both highborn and lowborn how to use the bow. Of course his best student had to be Ned's wilful daughter though, and she was proving more than capable with the bow. Ned walked over to where Arya was chastising the younger boys.

"If you don't train, you won't get good. And what's the point of being rubbish at something when you're both going to be important Lords one day?" She asked, hands on her hips. Ned was getting some serious flashbacks of Lyanna chastising Benjen as a youth and smiled softly.

"But the bow is boring!" Robin Arryn complained. "The Knights of the Vale fight on horseback! Not standing around from a distance."

Ned interjected then. "Have I told you about the Battle of the Trident?" He asked the boys. Rickon nodded, but Robin shook his head. "We faced a host that had greater numbers than our own, and your father, Lord Jon Arryn, he faced the fresh Dornish host. If it hadn't been for the archers of House Hunter, your own vassals, then I doubt the Vale would have won their battle so convincingly."

"I was taught that it was Ser Lyn that won the battle." Robin countered.

Ned nodded. "Ser Lyn Corbray was vital yes, but without the thinning of the host facing us from the various archers in our company, we would have likely been overwhelmed. Lord Arthur's father and his archer force was very important to us that day." Rickon looked inspired, while Robin just nodded his head. "The time will come for you to learn how to wield all weapons, but for now listen to Lord Arthur and try your best."

"Yes Lord Stark." Robin Arryn nodded. Rickon nodded to, before he pulled Robin away to run to the archery range.

"Arya, wait a moment." Ned said quickly, knowing he had to get this out of the way.

"Father?" She asked.

Ned thought how to begin, settling on. "You are enjoying the archery, aren't you?"

Her face beamed. "I am! It's so much better than sewing and singing!" She looked abashed for a moment as she realised what she said. "Although I am still trying in those lessons too…"

"I know." Ned appeased. "But your martial lessons, those are your favourites?"

Arya nodded. "Ser Rodrik has even let me start with a wooden sword with Rickon and Robin."

Ned knew that, he had told the Master at Arms to allow her into his lessons so that she learnt from a trained knight instead of self-teaching. "I sometimes wonder what I am going to do with you." He said softly. "Would that you would settle for a common marriage as your sister has and your mother wishes, but I know you too well for you to be happy with that."

Arya scrunched up her face. "I keep saying I don't want to marry. I can't be like Sansa."

"Good." Ned admitted, to Arya's shock. "I love your sister dearly, as I do you, and I wouldn't change her for the world. Just as I wouldn't change you." He told her pointedly. "If you are certain that you do not wish to marry over the next few years, then I will not force it on you."

Arya beamed. "Really?"

"Really." Ned nodded. "Although, you must show that this level of freedom I am granting you is appreciated by taking your lessons as seriously as you were expected to take your sewing and singing. If I hear a word about you not trying in any of your lessons, whether that be from Maester Luwin, Septa Mordane or Ser Rodrik, then your sword and bow lessons will be taken away, am I clear?"

Arya nodded eagerly, before she clattered into Ned for a hug. "Thank you!" She cried. "I swear on the Old Gods and the New, I will be good!"

Ned smiled softly. "Run along then, I believe Lord Arthur is expecting you." Arya nodded and ran off towards the archery range, leaving Ned convinced at what he had to do. He walked back through the castle to his solar and sat back down at his desk staring at the parchment to go to Shorestone. Nodding, he dipped his quill in ink and wrote down the name of his youngest daughter, Sara, confirming that the youngest red-haired Stark would be the one to marry into House Glover.

* * *

As day turned to night, Ned finally managed to retreat to his wife's chambers as he tended to do at nights. Cat hadn't returned yet, so Ned got undressed and changed into his nightwear. Once he was done he stared out of the window down at the courtyard, watching as the torches flickered. He didn't know how long he was stood there, but eventually the door opened and Cat entered.

"My Lord." She smiled.

"My Lady." Ned bowed his head.

Cat sat down at her dresser and began to undo her hair before she held the brush out for Ned to take. Chuckling lightly, Ned took the object and began slowly combing through his wife's hair. "Sara started drawing today." She commented.

Ned was surprised. "She's growing so fast." He noted. "I had to decide who is to wed Gawen Glover today."

Cat's lips pursed. "I presume this decision is part of the reason Arya was so excited about swordplay this evening." Ned just nodded, an action that Cat saw in the mirror. "She is a Lady, Ned…"

"Is she?" Ned raised an eyebrow. "I wish she were as much as you do, life would be easier." He sighed.

"We can't let her do as she pleases."

"We aren't." Ned insisted. "She is still to attend her lessons with the Septa, she is just… exploring other options too. I've half a mind to send her to Bear Island to foster with Maege, but not until the Wildling problem has been sorted if I do."

Cat sighed. "I tried, Ned. I tried to raise her a Lady."

Ned smiled and kissed his wife on the top of her head. "Some women just can't be taught. Lyanna was the same." He told her softly. "My Father tried to force her, and that decision led to the entire realm being torn in two. I would not do the same to Arya."

"She wouldn't…" Cat whispered.

Ned shrugged. "She is skilled, Cat. I would just hone those skills in an honourable way rather than… what she became in Torrhen's visions."

Cat shuddered. She stayed silent for a moment before she nodded. "Yes, I couldn't live with myself if that happened again."

"It won't." Ned smiled, still brushing through the red locks. "Things are already so different. Sara for one…"

"And Edmure has another child." Cat interrupted. "I found out earlier this afternoon. Axel has a little sister."

Ned grinned widely. "That's wonderful."

"Kathryn, he and Lady Melody called her." Catelyn said happily. "Father was thrilled in his letter."

Ned placed the brush down on the dresser and stepped backwards to allow Cat to get herself changed for bed. "He has grown up a lot, I noticed it while at Riverrun. He seems a new man."

Cat smiled, though her eyes were sad. "I just wish Lysa could still be with us."

Ned nodded sadly. "Her memory as well as Jon's is honoured in her son. Raising him like he is our own while never letting him forget their memory is how we honour them both."

Cat nodded, stepping out of her day dress. Ned smirked at her nakedness as if it were the first time she had willingly come to his bed. Cat rolled her eyes as she pulled on her nightdress and walked over to get into bed. Ned joined her and she curled up in his arms, running her foot gently along his shin. "I just hope Bran and Robb are alright. And Torrhen." She whispered.

Ned nodded. "I do too. But they are all old enough to make their own way now more or less, all we can do is pray for them."

"I feel old." Cat chuckled. "Robb is a man now, Torrhen near enough. Sansa is wed also…"

"You look as young and beautiful as you did on our wedding day." Ned reassured her. "Only I can appreciate that now as I couldn't then."

Cat snorted a laugh. "We were both so nervous."

"Aye, we were." Ned nodded. He lifted her chin up to kiss her lips softly. "No more."

Cat shook her head, lifting herself up to lie down on top of him. "No more." She repeated, kissing him deeper. Ned just let out a guttural moan into her mouth when she shifted her legs so she could reach behind her and into his trousers, and the pair lost themselves into the throes of passion that they had experienced with one another hundreds of times before.

* * *

Seeing Gilly again had shaken Sam momentarily. Seeing her smile again had almost made him weep. Craster's Keep was as depressing as the Tarly remembered, although this time of course there was no Jon to anger the incestuous host. Sam used that to his advantage, and he had begun to build a good relationship with many of Craster's wives, not just Gilly. Of course it was Gilly that he was the fondest of, and Gilly that he stole precious moments with.

As always though they had soon overstayed their welcome and Lord Commander Mormont had bid them to prepare to leave. As Sam was packing the ravens onto the cart he saw Gilly walking nearby and vowed that no matter what changed, he would always protect her. He walked over towards her, his frame still large but thinner than it had been thanks to his strictly adhered to exercise regimes. "Gilly!" He exclaimed in a whisper.

"Hello Sam." She said softly.

Sam looked at her and his heart ached. "I have something for you." He said quietly. "But you only must use it when you have no other choice." He pulled out a small vial of clear liquid.

Gilly eyed it cautiously. "What is it?" She asked.

Sam shook his head. "Don't ask me that. Just… just use it in his drink."

Gilly stepped back. "Poison? I can't…"

"Think of the baby." Sam whispered. "When we are gone put it in his drink. It will seem natural I swear it."

Gilly frowned, but she took the small vial and hid it in her clothing. "Why are you doing this?" She asked.

Sam smiled sadly. "Because I care about you, and while I cannot take you with me, I would not leave you here alone without something to aid you." He took her hand gently, making sure nobody else could see them. "When you use it and it works, go and find Mance Rayder. He will look after you all."

"He's to fight you." Gilly said quietly.

Sam shook his head. "Not for long, I promise."

Gilly eyed Sam carefully, before she leant in for a clumsy kiss. "Thank you." She whispered, before she took the basket of firewood back into the house.

Sam didn't let his smile show on his face until later that day when they were miles away from the house. He knew he couldn't be with Gilly this time, but he had had a lifetime with her before, and just knowing that they were still soulmates warmed him more than he would care to admit.

* * *

**There we are then, a lot happened even though it's a Torrhen lite, shorter chapter. Firstly an insight into Astapor, whereas originally the scene was meant to be added to by having the scene where Dany agreed to buy the Unsullied, that was just going to be more canon rehash so I changed that out for the Sam section, which had important parts explaining what had happened without Jon at the Wall or on the ranging. This Sam is also an older, more experienced Maester in the body of a younger man remember, so he would know a lot about poisons. I promise you that this isn't the last we see of Gilly.**

**Also with the Night's Watch, we have Jaime taking his vows. I wasn't overly sure on how men of the Faith took them, but I hope you appreciate the direction I took in getting the men to choose which God to swear the vow to, as well as enjoy my reasoning behind why Jaime chose the Maiden. Unlike the guest flamer that thought that Jaime would be unimportant, that really isn't the case, and this is the true start of his character redemption.**

**Finally in Winterfell, we find out that Edmure has a son! I also let you all know the status of Ned's original plan in Chapter 11, which was added thanks to some confusion by a reader about what had been agreed earlier in the story. Apart from that, Ned makes his decision about Arya as well as a lovely moment between Ned and Catelyn. I know Cat is a divisive figure in the fandom, but I want to reiterate that she is one of my favourite characters and writing her in Rises were some of my favourite moments. Sara will be the one to marry Gawen Glover though when she comes of age, if they both live that long…**

**I hope you all enjoyed this, and please let me know what you think even if it is a short review. It sounds silly but reader interaction really does help me.**

**Next time: Torrhen and company arrive in the Lands beyond the Wall, while Dany takes control of her Unsullied army.**

**Reviews:**

**J.F.C: It's an idea that I hadn't thought about until your comment, and one I'll look into implementing from the next chapter. Thank you for that.**

**Freakdogsflare: They aren't sure on how the Wildlings will act once they're through the Wall, so why would they build castles that will give them added protection if they do break the King's Peace?**


	41. Fire and Blood

**I'm sorry that this is late! Something personal came up over the last couple of days so I didn't have a chance to upload, so I'm putting this up earlier in the day than I'd normally like even though it's later in the week.**

**I own nothing but Torrhen. Everyone and everything else recognisable from the books or show is the property of either George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

Torrhen had been born during the last winter, but he didn't have any memories of it at all. He had known snow of course and had had to deal with the winter brought by the White Walkers before he died, but there was something different about the Frozen Shore. It was a beautiful white sheet that covered the land, and the cold was evident, but it wasn't as harsh and biting as some that Torrhen had known.

They landed in the large cove that separated the largest part of the Frozen Shore from the Frostfangs mountain range. Torrhen stepped off of the boat and crunched his boots on the snow underfoot, staring at the jagged mountain tops on the horizon. "That's where we need to go." He told his party.

"We'll set up camp here." Domeric Bolton said, stepping off of the boat next, closely followed by Cregan Glenmore. "The sun has started to get lower and we would be better off setting off at dawn."

Torrhen nodded, and he helped out with the other 14 in their group as they set up tents and he even helped Harwin, one of the guards that Ned had sent with him, prepare meals for the horses. By the time the camp was set up in a manner that would be easily defendable the sun had truly gotten lower in the sky. They started a campfire and half the men sat around it, while the other half guarded the perimeter. Torrhen sat beside Domeric Bolton as he chewed on his oatbread and noticed Domeric snorting out a laugh. He looked and saw the Bolton heir unwrapping a lemon cake. "She must like you a lot if she shares those." Torrhen noted.

Domeric smiled. "I am rather fond of her too. I perhaps shouldn't be given the age difference, but Sansa is a sweet girl. Not like any other I've ever known."

"Aye, that's true." Torrhen noted. "I'm glad you get on well. There was a time where she was worried because of our houses history."

Domeric nodded knowingly. "We've spoken about that." He murmured. "The Dreadfort is a dreary place it's true, but it's home."

"Just don't show her the room with the skins when you do travel back there with her." Torrhen grinned.

Domeric feigned innocence. "What room?" Torrhen snorted a laugh and took another bite, while Domeric pulled out a piece of parchment from his satchel. "I was thinking about the responsibility put on my shoulders just by having this marriage on the journey up here. Our houses have long been enemies."

"We heard stories about the men of the Dreadfort coming to steal us away as children." Torrhen told Dom. "Old Nan is a fanciful storyteller."

Domeric grinned. "I should have asked to wed in the wildling custom, then your stories would be reality." Torrhen chuckled, shaking his head. "Seriously though, my Father taught us the same things about Winterfell and our heritage." He sighed. "Spending time in the Vale opened my eyes a bit to the reality of the world. I don't want my House to be known as the antagonistic one in the North. I want us to be different."

"You are the heir." Torrhen shrugged. "One day, you will rule the Dreadfort and whatever you wish for House Bolton can be a reality. Your destiny is your choice, Dom."

Domeric smiled. "I'm glad you said that." He handed Torrhen the parchment. It was a scribbled sigil, a white longsword with a border of blood red on a navy background. "Our current banner glorifies an outlawed act. I would change that."

Torrhen nodded. "I like it." He admitted. "You are still showing your words and that you are a house to be feared, yet you're losing a stigma that your family have had for generations."

"My Father would never agree." Domeric chuckled, taking the parchment back."

"You are an anointed knight, are you not?" Torrhen asked him.

"I am." Domeric confirmed.

Torrhen grinned. "Then use it as a personal sigil until you come into your title." Domeric had a thoughtful look on his face at the suggestion, and Torrhen continued. "Ask Sansa to stitch you a surcoat to start with and see if you like it." He pointed to his tent, where the first banner that he had received in this life flew proudly. "She made that for me, she's extremely talented."

Domeric nodded. "Aye, I might just do that."

Torrhen grinned, getting to his feet and stretching. "You're not the only one eager to see hostilities between our houses put to one side, all of us in Winterfell are eager to do so as well. Remember that." He clapped Domeric on the back and went to retire for the night, leaving the Bolton heir lost in his thoughts as he pondered on what to do.

* * *

"And it's not just thieves, My Lord. There's wolves in them hills now, more than I ever seen. They come down in the night and they kill my sheep. My three sons all died in the south fighting with you, my lord. I have no one to man my flock now. Only me. I can't keep watch all day and all night."

Ned Stark was holding his weekly court session with the newly returned Robb at his side, although he knew that all the heir of Winterfell wanted to do was to spend time with his son, Beron. The younger future Lord of Winterfell had just turned one, and Robb already lamented the time he had spent away from the boy.

"Go into the Wintertown to the orphanage there." Ned instructed the shepherd. "Pick out three boys from there and I shall pay for them personally. I'll also let you leave with a pouch full of coin for you to use to improve your fields to stop the wolves."

"Thank you, milord." The shepherd bowed his head.

"Ser Rodrik." Ned called out to his Master at Arms. "Assemble a group of five men. I want them to travel with this man here and to comb the lands for any sign of these thieves. Capture them alive, I will deal with them myself."

"Very good, My Lord." Ser Rodrik also bowed his head.

Ned turned back to the shepherd. "See to my steward and he shall give you the gold as well as go with you to the orphanage."

"Thank you again, milord." The shepherd bowed before he was escorted out. Ned leant back in his chair and sighed an audible sigh of relief.

"Is that it for the day?" He called out. Nobody came forward to say anything else, so Ned stood up.

"Quickly, My Lord." Maester Luwin said. "A raven came from the citadel. A white raven."

That brought a coldness that made even Ned shudder throughout the Great Hall. Robb was the first to react vocally. "Summer is over then." The heir said.

Ned nodded. "And Winter is Coming." He stated plainly. "Very well. Robb, organise preparations for a final Harvest Feast now that Summer is over. Luwin, draft out a letter to the Lords and Ladies of the North inviting them for the feast, but make it clear that since we already celebrated a similar celebration after the Lannister war ended it is not compulsory and that their duty to their people in preparation for the coming Winter is far more important."

"My Lord." Luwin bowed, leaving the hall. The rest of the audience had already filtered out, leaving only the two Stark's.

"We need to make sure our stores are full too." Ned explained. "I'll draft a letter to Highgarden to see if they can spare any supplies. Thankfully, the Lannister gold we took is plentiful."

Robb nodded. "I'll write to Lord Manderly too. Mayhaps his being in the Capital can gain us new trade relationships from the Free Cities."

Ned nodded, clapping Robb on the back. "Good, you're thinking like a Lord." He could see Robb looking towards the door and chuckled lightly. "Go, spend time with your boy."

"Thank you, Father." Robb grinned. The younger Stark bolted from the hall, leaving Ned alone to ponder on the future now that the long summer was finally over. He thought of Bran in the South, who should soon be back in King's Landing after his ordeals in the Iron Islands. He thought of Torrhen North of the Wall and prayed that his mission was successful. But above all, he prayed for the unlikeliness of all of their planning being unnecessary, and for a short winter to come without the added issues of war.

* * *

The arrangement to buy all 8,000 Unsullied as well as the half-trained boys went down smoother than the last time. Thankfully neither Jon nor Ser Jorah questioned her decision, thanks in part by the trust she had placed in them by explaining her past life.

Missandei had settled in nicely too, with Dany gifting her one of the Targaryen's dresses to wear rather than the slave rags that she had come to Dany in as soon as they arrived back on the ship. Dany had given both Irri and Doreah some free time for themselves and the Targaryen let Missandei style her hair too and used the time to get to know her once friend again.

"So where are you from?" Dany asked, knowing the answer but wanting to get the girl to open up.

"This one is from the Isle of Naath, Your Grace." Missandei answered dutifully.

Dany smiled knowingly. She had been to Naath once, after the conclusion of the Ghiscari Rebellion, and had taken a ship full of Unsullied as well as Grey Worm and Missandei there to stay before Dany rode back to her fleet on Drogon. She hadn't seen either of them again. "I hear it is beautiful." Dany said softly.

"I would not know, Your Grace." Missandei said softly. "Me and my brothers were taken very young."

Dany froze. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "Are they…" She trailed off, not wanting to know the answer.

"Two are dead." Missandei said sadly. "But Marselen is part of the Unsullied group that you will be purchasing."

"I'm buying your brother?" Dany asked with a smile. Missandei nodded as she combed the brush through Dany's silver hair. "I'm glad."

Missandei nodded. "You freed this one." She said slowly. "Is that your plan with the Unsullied?"

Dany had forgotten just how smart the Naathi was. "If all goes well, tomorrow there shall be no slaves in Astapor."

The door opened at that moment, and Dany grinned to see Jon standing there, his armour on. "Forgive me." Jon muttered.

"Come in." Dany smiled. "Missandei, this is Jon."

"Greetings." Missandei bowed her head.

Jon reciprocated the gesture before he looked at Dany. "The men are in place and Kraznys has gathered the Unsullied in the Plaza of Punishment."

Dany grimaced. "I hate this place." She muttered, before raising her voice. "Very well, we will be out in a moment. Is Drogon ready?"

Jon nodded. "Anxious, he knows something is wrong."

"He will be happy soon enough." Dany grinned. "Soon, I will show Astapor what our House words truly mean."

* * *

The Northmen split into two groups as dawn broke in the vast snowy plains of the Frozen Shore. Half of the group stayed with the raven in the camp under strict instructions to stay for ten days at the most, and if they heard nothing from Torrhen's own party then they were to presume the worst and leave the way they came. Torrhen meanwhile led his half a dozen men as they began the long journey towards the Frostfangs and the Skirling Pass that they were searching for. To even reach the mountain range took two days, and when they found a large passage leading eastwards, Torrhen knew that this was the road they needed to take. "Hold up." He commanded, and the party stopped. He made sure that he was strapped into his saddle well enough, and he let his consciousness fly towards Balerion.

The large black Direwolf then padded off into the pass to scout. Taking care to look into most crevices just in case there was a secret pathway, Torrhen must have been searching for almost an hour until he saw something interesting, a lone horseman dressed all in black. Balerion walked over towards the figure, and in the Direwolf's mind he noticed some kind of thurible in his right hand. Thinking it odd, Torrhen sniffed the horse, only to smell death.

Torrhen snarled Balerion's teeth, but the figure just cocked his head and lowered his hood, so that only his eyes and hair were visible. Balerion cocked his head, as Torrhen recognised the blue-grey eyes and dark hair staring back at him. Leaving a thought for Balerion to stay where he was, Torrhen returned to his own mind. Gasping, he reached for his water skin and took a long gulp, before breaking into a biscuit.

"What did you see?" Cregan asked from beside him. Torrhen looked around and saw his party were looking at him expectantly, some uneasy at his abilities.

"An ally." Torrhen said cryptically. "Come on, we should meet him." He pushed his Garron onwards through the entranceway to the Skirling Pass, and although he was eager he rode carefully, making sure that they weren't about to get ambushed. Luckily, they didn't, and soon enough Torrhen saw his Direwolf getting patted by the now dismounted black figure. When they were close, Torrhen said. "Wait here, I'll be a moment."

"My Lord…" Harwin began.

"It's ok Harwin." Torrhen said happily as he dismounted. "It's family." He made sure his sword belt was tight around his waist and he walked briskly towards the figure, his thick wolfskin cloak flapping in the wind. Without caution, he flung himself at the figure, wrapping him up in a warm embrace. "Uncle Benjen."

The figure hugged back for a moment, before pushing Torrhen away while keeping his hands on the younger Stark's shoulders. "You're wise beyond your years, nephew."

Torrhen grinned. "It's been said. What happened? We heard you were missing, presumed dead."

Benjen lowered the cloth covering his face, and Torrhen saw the scars and rot that had set in. "We hunted White Walker's further north. They found us instead. A White Walker stabbed me through the gut with an ice blade and left me to die. I would have joined their army had it not been for the children of the Forest."

Torrhen's face fell in sadness. "Father will be devastated." He said softly.

"Your Father knew that this was always a likelihood." Benjen said calmly. "Tell him not to worry, I will do my part here for as long as I can to give he and all of you a fighting chance."

Torrhen nodded. "We need to find Mance Rayder." He stated plainly.

"I know. The Children sent me to greet you and to guide you." Benjen explained. "He has scouts posted all along the Skirling Pass. Find his scouts and you'll be taken to him."

Torrhen nodded. "If they don't kill us all first."

Benjen shook his head before pointing further into the pathway between mountains. "Travel for three more hours and you'll find a valley on your left. Take that pathway up the mountain and you'll meet an old friend."

Torrhen nodded, committing the instructions to memory. "You're not coming with us?" He asked.

Benjen shook his head. "You have your path, as I have mine." He moved one of his hands up to cup Torrhen's cheek. "We will see one another again."

Torrhen nodded, stepping backwards to allow Benjen to mount his horse again. "Head towards Hardhome. If all goes well, Father will be there soon."

Benjen nodded. "Stay alive." Was all he said before kicking his horse into action and riding away. Torrhen scratched Balerion's neck for a moment as they watched Benjen disappear, before he mounted his own horse again.

"Was that who I think it was?" Harwin asked.

Torrhen nodded. "Aye, Uncle Benjen has given us a heading. With any luck we will be one step closer to going back home before the day is done."

* * *

The gates of Astapor opened to reveal a huge plaza filled to the brim of Unsullied stood in formation. Jon walked alongside Daenerys and Missandei as they walked around to their place to make the transaction. They passed a number of Astapori citizens that had come out to watch the transaction, and Jon felt disgusted at every single one of them. Kraznys began to shout words at them as they made their way towards him, which Missandei dutifully translated.

"The master says they are untested. He says you would be wise to blood them early. There are many small cities between here and Westeros that are ripe for sacking. Should you take any captives, the masters will buy the healthy ones for a good price." Missandei translated. Jon felt himself grow hot with anger, and he kept his hand on his sword hilt for good measure. He took a look at the front row of the Unsullied as they passed them, and Jon noticed the determined look in all of their eyes. He certainly wouldn't want to face them, and suddenly doubt about if Daenerys' plan would work set in. Kraznys spoke again, and once more Missandei translated. "And who knows, in ten years some of the boys you send them may be Unsullied in their turn. Thus all shall prosper."

They had stopped in front of Kraznys, who held a giant gold whip in his right hand. Jon fixed him with his best glare, but the arrogant master paid him no notice. Dany turned and walked over to the box carrying Drogon and undid the lid, allowing the small, chained dragon a chance to spread his wings and rise into the air. Jon held his breath as the exchange took place, with Dany and Kraznys swapping the dragon for the whip. "Is it done then?" The Targaryen girl asked as if it was rehearsed. "They belong to me?"

"It is done." Missandei responded after translating Kraznys. "You hold the whip."

Kraznys then spoke something that even Jon understood. "**The bitch has her army.**" He gripped his sword tighter, but Daenerys just turned away from the master towards the Unsullied, ignoring the pained cries from Drogon. Jon just watched her, noticing a number of common Astapori walking through the lines of the Unsullied.

Then, Dany began her plan. "**Unsullied!**" She cried in Valyrian, surprising Missandei who looked at a smirking, knowing Jon. "**Forward march!**" The Unsullied began to move forwards in unison. "**Halt!**"

Jon was thankful for all of the Valyrian lessons at that moment, as Kraznys was struggling to hold the little black dragon he called to Missandei. "**Tell the bitch her beast won't come.**"

Dany turned back to face him as he said this, and before Missandei could even begin to translate, Dany snarled. "**A dragon is not a slave.**"

Just as Missandei had been, Kraznys looked shocked at the language being used. "**You speak Valyrian?**" He asked her, still struggling.

"**I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen.**" Dany spoke proudly. "**Of the blood of Old Valyria. Valyrian is my mother tongue.**" Without waiting for a response, Daenerys turned around to face the Unsullied, and Jon gripped his sword tightly, knowing what was to come. "**Unsullied! Slay the masters! Slay the soldiers! Slay every man who holds a whip! But harm no child. Strike the chains off every slave you see!**"

Jon drew his sword quickly and struck fast, breaking the chain off of Drogon and quickly thrusting his blade into Kraznys' belly. His two personal guards quickly came upon Jon at that moment, and so Jon made sure to kill them both quickly, opening one's neck with a spray of blood and jabbing his own sword into the next one's heart. He turned around to see that the Unsullied had begun their own work, leaving only corpses behind. Jon heard the flapping of wings then and saw Drogon looking at him curiously. "**Dracarys.**" He said calmly, and he could have sworn that the dragon grinned before he flew off, blowing fire on the enemies. Jon then turned back to where Missandei and Jorah stood and re-joined them, eager to protect Daenerys.

It was all over by the end of the day, with even a proxy council set up to govern the city. Astapor was burning and the slavers lay dead, either as bloody corpses or as charred remains. The Unsullied had reformed in their ranks and everybody was eager to be rid of the city. Whilst the butchery had been ongoing, Jory Cassel had stolen all the horses within the city and distributed them out to the remaining Dothraki before giving them out to Jorah, Missandei and Jon. The sole white mare was left for Daenerys however, and the Valyrian woman was eventually ready to leave. She walked through the ranks of the Unsullied over to where her new horse was being kept beside an already mounted Jon and without saying a word she mounted up gracefully. He moved beside her. "Are you ready."

Dany smiled softly at him. "To Yunkai." She told him softly. "But first…" She looked around her at the gathered Unsullied. "**Unsullied! You have been slaves all your life. Today you are free. Any man who wishes to leave may leave and you shall come to no harm. I give you my word. Will you fight for me? As free men?**"

It took a moment, but one Unsullied began banging their spears on the sandy ground, closely followed by more, and more again, and even more until finally the entire legion of the eunuch warriors were bashing their spears in unison. Jon couldn't take his eyes off of Dany as the noise carried through the plaza, and she caught his eye with a knowing smirk. It was at that moment, where the already powerful Targaryen woman was surrounded by her loyal army, that Jon knew exactly what he felt for Daenerys. It was total adoration.

* * *

They travelled far that first day on the march, and all throughout Jon had been questioning what he was going to say to Daenerys the next time they got a moment to speak. Unfortunately for him, duties for them both meant that it was the middle of the night before Jon got a chance to just relax. He got out of his armour and into something a lot more comfortable and lay down in his bed, although sleep continued to evade him. Groaning, he got up again and put his boots on. Thankfully, the nights were warm too, so he didn't need to wrap up much. Instead he grabbed his sword belt and left his tent in the direction of Dany's.

Candlelight was flickering inside, and Jon was grateful for that. He greeted the Unsullied standing guard outside and pushed through the flaps. There was nobody in the bed section, but he heard laughter coming from one of the side chambers. He walked towards it, hearing Missandei and Daenerys speaking about something unimportant. Pushing through, he was surprised to see Daenerys in a tub bathing, her nipples just above the water level.

"Jon." Dany said surprised.

"Forgive me, Your Grace." Jon immediately turned his back to protect her dignity. "I… I just…" He mentally kicked himself, not knowing what to say.

"Leave us." Jon heard Dany say to Missandei with mirth in her voice. Missandei walked swiftly passed Jon and out of the tent, leaving him standing there feel like a fool.

"I'm sorry. I should not have come…" Jon began.

"And yet you did." Dany said, and Jon heard the splashing of water indicating that she had stood. He stood there, keeping his back towards her as she got out of the tub. He expected her to put on a robe, and so when he felt her fingers on his arm pulling him to turn around he was extremely surprised to see that she was still naked. He averted his eyes, but that made for her to grin even wider. "You never were one to be comfortable with such avert nudity." Dany said jovially. "Not even after we wed before."

"I don't care about before." Jon said quickly, before realising how that sounded. "I… I'm sorry, that was harsh."

Dany shrugged. "It was honest. That's part of what I like about you, Jon Snow. You tell me the truth. So tell me, why are you here?"

Jon still continued to stare over her head. "I wanted to tell you that I… that I feel… why is this so difficult." He laughed at the last part, running his hands through his hair.

"I know what you want." Dany said softly. "I know what you feel. I feel the same."

Jon looked into her purple eyes. "Is it the me from your time you feel that for, or is it me?" He asked, unusually timid.

Dany reached up with both of her hands and held his face. "You." She whispered. She leant up on her tiptoes and planted her lips on his. Jon was surprised, but he kissed her back fiercely, allowing her to take dominance as her tongue wrestled with his own, and Dany pushed him through the translucent drapes towards the bed, the last two Targaryen's in existence igniting the old Valyrian custom once more.

* * *

**So yes, I'm leaning into the 'Domeric changes House Bolton' trope… The new sigil I think is really neat though, as it leans into the Bolton's history and words without having any mention of flaying. The Northern party also meets with Undead Benjen, who will have a little bit of a part to play later on in the story as well, so don't worry he's not going to die as pointless a death as he did in the show.**

**Meanwhile in Winterfell it was Ned's turn to be the 'where are we in canon' scene of the chapter. It is Season 2 Episode 5, where the old man needs help on his farm. I tried to convey Ned's experience as well as his newfound wealth in his decisions about that. **

**And finally in Meereen, I want to thank J.F.C for the idea about Missandei's brothers. This is happening a full season earlier than canon, so I've kept one of her brothers alive, the one that didn't get their name recycled for a separate show character. The sack of Astapor scene was so fun to write, I'd forgotten how badass Dany is in that scene. I gave Jon a bit more to do however, as Drogon was a lot smaller here than the show counterpart. The Targaryen pair also give in to their feelings for one another, and how will that affect Jon going forwards…**

**I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Thank you to all reviewers, and all the people who followed/favourited the story. Let me know what you think about this chapter, and I shall see you in 5 or 6 days with the next chapter, where Jon considers what he has done, and Torrhen meets an ally from his last life…**

**Reviews:**

**Black Magic99: The Wildlings don't seem bothered by that sort of thing, but they'll have materials to build their own settlements.**

**Zyruss Villarreal: They could meet again you're absolutely right!**

**Guest (Gilly): She used it almost straight away, the first time he made a comment towards any of the women after the Night's Watch left.**

**Silver crow: No need to apologise, I probably shouldn't have 'begged' for reviews in the last chapter to be honest, I was just a bit disheartened at the lack of a response to Chapter 39. That's my thinking, giving Jaime a true purpose could be the making of him. As for Robin, taking him away from Lysa and to the freedom of the North isn't a new idea in fanfiction by a long shot, but the way I see it is that it gives Robin the freedom to grow at his own pace rather than be stunted until he's almost too old to learn a new skill easily as he was in canon, as well as have the pressure of Lord Royce standing over him when all he wanted was the attention of Littlefinger.**

**Freakdogsflare: Because the Wildlings wouldn't come South if they were being forced to give up prisoners. Ned is being generous with the ultimate aim of saving as many lives as possible.**

**Rolling Mist 13: No need to apologise, it has been a pretty mad few months all over the world. Thank you for the kind words! I'm bringing out my inner 'United in Fury' hat on for Stannis/Renly. The original plan for that story was to have all the Baratheon's live and work together, but when I killed Loras off and with Renly not as the Lord of Storm's End, it didn't make much sense that he wouldn't go the way he did. With this story I can at least give the Baratheon's some unity. As for Theon, I get why you don't want to give him any sympathy, but I'm enjoying writing this version of him and eventually I hope you'll get on with him. Dany's remembering will massively impact her story… but post taking Meereen. You'll find out in about 10 chapters time what I mean by that. You'll find Person 6 out in Chapter 43! The Ironborn battle was fun, heavily inspired by the Curse of the Black Pearl. Domeric has always been described as better, and a life in the Vale would only benefit him, I'm enjoying writing him. Lyn is an interesting one, but I'm sure I'll mention countless minor Lords throughout the story I just wish I were like GRRM and could integrate them better! Jaime will be great to write as we head towards the end of the story, he has a true purpose now and he will benefit from that.**


	42. Doctrine of Exceptionalism

**As I was having a look through my current stories, I worked out that this chapter will take the Black Wolf saga over 500,000 words. It then hit me that we're very close to hitting the last third of this story, and that if I can manage to continue with this update schedule then I'll be finished with the story of Torrhen Stark by the first weekend of October. So I'm going to enjoy it as much as I can until that point, and I hope you all will too.**

**I'm not sure if the guest who last reviewed United in Fury will see this, but just in case they do, thank you for alerting me about the translated version of that story on Wattpad. For future reference if anybody is thinking of translating this story, then first of all ask me if I'm ok with that. The chances are I will be so long as I am asked first and credited. The translator this time didn't do any of those things and was passing the story off as their own, which is not ok.**

**On a brighter note, on with the story! I own nothing but any OC's, including Torrhen. Everyone and everything else belongs to George R R Martin and or HBO.**

* * *

Jon woke up slowly as the light of the sunrise filtered through to the tent. At first he had forgotten how he had fallen asleep, but light breathing from beside him caused that memory to resurface quickly. Jon turned and saw the flowing silver hair of Daenerys sprawled on the pillows, and her naked back was turned to him as she lay on her side. His eyes widened in fear as he placed his hands on his own topless chest and ran down his body. He grimaced as he didn't feel a waistband when he reached his hips, and audibly groaned when he felt his morning hardness free of confinement.

He tried to quietly get out of the bed to not wake Daenerys up. He managed to find his breeches and had one leg in them when he felt movement on the mattress, and a sleepy voice call out. "You don't have to go."

"My Queen." He said formally, putting his other leg in the trousers. "I did not mean to wake you."

"You should have." Dany smiled, sitting up without a care for her modesty. "You really don't need to go." She repeated.

Jon sighed. "I do. This was a mistake." He whispered, internally kicking himself.

Dany thankfully just laughed the once. "You and your honour." She rolled her eyes, kneeling on the mattress and walking on her knees towards him, snaking her arms around his chest and resting her hands on his pecs. She kissed him in the nook between his shoulder and neck. "You have nothing to fear Jon Snow. I will not carry your bastard after last night."

Jon pulled her hands away and stood up so he could lift his trousers over his bum and tighten them properly. "You can't know that. I swore to myself that I would never have a bastard. I made a vow…"

"A vow you made when you were the bastard of Winterfell." Dany knew all this. "You are Aegon of the House Targaryen, the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms. You are not a bastard, Jon."

"And I am also unwed." Jon said bitterly. "I may not be a bastard, but I was brought up one. I am one in my mind, no matter what truths come out."

Dany smiled sadly. "You wanted this just as much as I did." She insisted, kneeling on the edge of the bed so her face was inches away from his own. "I know your fears, truly I do. But answer me this, do you care about me?"

Jon looked incredulous. "Of course I do."

"And do you wish to be with me?" Dany asked him.

"More than anything." Jon said quietly. "But until then…"

"Until then you will be noble and protect my innocence." Dany rolled her eyes. Jon went to protest but Dany cut him off. "Don't try and deny it. I am not an innocent, Jon. I am a widow of a Khal, I was Queen of the Seven Kingdoms for almost 50 years. You don't have to protect my chastity or whatever noble mission you think you need to be on."

Jon shook his head. "It's not that. I just won't chance the possibility that I do sire a bastard."

Dany smiled, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek. "There is no-one else I would rather be with, Aegon." She whispered. "I swear to you, as soon as we have a Septon or a Weirwood tree, we will be wed." She then got to her feet still on the bed, and she towered over him by a foot. "But that might be a long time in the future yet."

Jon smiled up at her. "Then I will wait for that time." He said gently.

Dany rolled her eyes, but let Jon walk over to his under shirt and pull it over his head. She shook her head and got off of the bed, reaching for a robe and pulling that on before she got an idea. "My handmaiden, Doreah." She said bluntly.

"What about her?" Jon asked.

"She was a bedslave from Lys, bought for me to teach me the ways of the bed chamber." Dany explained. She walked over to him with a smirk on her face. "She taught me many things about intimacy."

"Dany." Jon protested.

Dany shook her head, still grinning. She was an inch away from him when she got to her tiptoes and whispered in her ear. "You don't have to fuck me for us to be intimate if you don't want to, there are other ways, safer ways." She nipped his ear gently, causing him to unwillingly moan. "Come, we have time before we are to march." She whispered, grabbing him by the waistband and pushing him back onto the bed.

* * *

The road through the Frostfangs was barely a road at all. A pathway up the mountainside not too dissimilar to the way past the Golden Tooth, but icier. Thankfully it only took a few hours from making the journey up until Balerion's hackles were raised. Torrhen stopped the party immediately once he sensed Balerion growing agitated. "Raise the banners." Torrhen said quietly. "Show them we mean no danger."

Cregan held up the Stark banner himself, while the Bolton banner and two plain white banners were also raised. Torrhen and Domeric were the only ones without, as they carried on through the pass. Barely ten minutes later, the pathway was blocked. A large, muscled man stood in his way, and Torrhen would have recognised the red hair anywhere. The Stark dismounted his Garron and walked towards Tormund Giantsbane.

"You lost, crow?" Tormund snarled at Torrhen.

"I'm not a crow, I just like the colour." Torrhen said. "I'm a Stark."

That made Tormund glare even more. "You're very lost." He said gruffly. "Or very stupid."

"My wife would say the second." Torrhen nodded. "We seek an audience with Mance Rayder. I have a message for him from my Father, Lord Eddard Stark."

"A message?" Tormund raised an eyebrow. "Or a knife in the back?"

"A message." Torrhen confirmed. He held his right arm in the air as he slowly reached into his cloak. Tormund growled and unsheathed his sword, but Torrhen quickly pulled out the parchment and put his left arm up as well. "I swear it, we mean you no harm. We simply seek an audience."

"What do you want with Mance?" Tormund asked, stepping closer.

Torrhen had almost forgotten how tall the man was, but he kept his composure and replied calmly. "His aide, his people. We have no wish to see you added to the ranks of the true enemy."

That took Tormund aback. "You know?" He whispered.

"We know." Torrhen nodded. "And we know how to kill them."

Tormund looked suspicious, but he put his sword away. "How do you know?"

"Because I've done it before." Torrhen said. "I fought the Night King before, and we killed each other in the process. The Old Gods blessed me and sent me back."

Tormund looked at Torrhen for a moment before he snorted in amusement. "Witchcraft, do you think me a fool?"

"I can prove it." Torrhen said, still with his hands up in the air. "I know who you are, I know your history, Tormund Giantsbane."

Tormund took a step back, snarling in confusion. "The crows know who I am. That proves nothing."

"You have two daughters." Torrhen said quickly. "The eldest is named Munda, and she has recently been stolen by Longspear Ryk, but not without a fight. You fucked a she bear and once was mistaken for a giants babe. Need I go on or do I need to show you at a Weirwood our history?"

Tormund looked almost scared, but he shook his head. "No crow could know those things. Only one of us…"

"Only a friend." Torrhen said, bringing his arms down. "We were friends, you and I. We fought side by side outside the gates of Winterfell, and you saved my life there." The Stark sighed. "I know how this sounds, trust me, but I swear by the Gods I mean you no harm."

"We fought together?" Tormund questioned.

"We did." Torrhen confirmed. "It was a bloodbath, you loved it."

Tormund grinned. "That sounds like me." He noted. "Very well, I will take you to Mance. But if he doesn't like you, then I will enjoy watching you southerners scream as you die." He turned around and whistled loudly, and suddenly Torrhen noticed over a dozen figures rising from various parts of the mountainside. Nodding, he turned back to his group, careful to pat Balerion to calm the Direwolf before he remounted his horse, following the red-headed Wildling further down the path.

* * *

The arrival of the royal fleet in King's Landing had been planned out to the maximum. Bran was one of the first to arrive in the Red Keep and had been immediately led towards the gallery, along with a whole host of other nobles that he barely recognised. He did remember Lord Manderly however, and went to stand by him as the rest of the room found their places. Bran noticed Renly Baratheon stood talking to some people he didn't recognise, and he also spotted that the Queen was also in the gallery surrounded by a group of girls, and he found her to be as beautiful as ever, although her breasts were larger. He must have been staring for too long, as Wyman Manderly gently nudged the young Stark. "The ceremony is about to start, My Lord." Wyman whispered with a grin on his face.

Bran flushed red with embarrassment, but he paid attention towards the Iron Throne at that point, and noticed that King Robert had gotten even more slim, although his face still showed it's roundness his belly wasn't as pronounced as Bran remembered. The King nodded to the Grand Maester, and the Tyrell Grand Maester spoke in a booming voice. "Silence for His Grace, King Robert of the House Baratheon!"

The room fell quiet, and Bran was enraptured as King Robert stood up powerfully. "With the destruction of Pyke and the decimation of the Ironborn, I can now pronounce this Ironborn rebellion over and won!" The crowd in the Throne Room applauded for a moment before Robert held up his hand. "To ensure that the Islands will pose no threat in the future, their base of power will forever be a ruin, and a governor will be appointed for each of the islands in due course. I also decree that from this day, no ships larger than trading vessels will be built on the Iron Islands, and each House will be limited to a maximum of twenty ships under their ownership. Should these decrees be broken, then once more the full might of Westeros shall descend on them." More applause followed until once more, Robert held his hand up to silence the room. "House Greyjoy shall become extinct. The sole heir to Pyke has renounced his claim and denounced his family and shall forever remain a ward of House Stark. Balon Greyjoy shall die, here, by my hand."

Bran gulped, not having realised up until now the position that this would have put Theon in. He hoped that the Greyjoy he had grown up with wouldn't hate him for Summer killing his sister. He couldn't dwell on that for long though as the doors of the Throne Room opened, and in walked Stannis Baratheon and Davos Seaworth, with two guards following them dressed in Baratheon livery, the men carrying the chains that were attached to Balon Greyjoy's hands and neck. They walked the length of the Throne Room in silence, ignoring the whispers of the gathered crowd on the floor. They stopped before the steps leading up to the Iron Throne and both Stannis and Davos got down on one knee before Robert.

"Rise." The King said powerfully, and Stannis and Davos did as they were bid. "Many thanks are owed to you both for ending this rebellion in my absence."

"We did our duty towards you, Your Grace." Stannis said calmly.

"And you did it well." Robert nodded. "Ser Davos, I hear you were instrumental in the sea battle that sunk most of the Iron Fleet."

Davos nodded. "They were expecting a similar tactic to the last time, Your Grace. I suggested we use that to our advantage."

"Your service won't go unrewarded." Robert told him. "During the wars of the last year House Wylde in the Stormlands have been reduced to but one woman, Lady Alyce. She is unwed, and I would have your son and heir marry her. Rain House and the lands in the Rainwood forest will belong to your grandsons and your House until the end of time. See me afterwards and I shall personally knight the boy myself."

Davos immediately sank to one knee. "Thank you, Your Grace. We shall never forget this honour."

Robert grinned. "Good." He then looked at Stannis. "Brother, for too long we have been at odds and I have not seen your value to my rule. That changes now. I formally name you Hand of the King."

Stannis had already been the Hand for ages now, but to be officially named Hand clearly made Stannis happy, and Bran noticed a twitch in his face. "Thank you, Your Grace. I have served you these many years and shall continue to serve until the end of my days."

"I also formally name you my heir, until a trueborn son is born to me." Robert said loudly, and whispers spread through the room. Bran remembered that the Queen had birthed a daughter, but the histories about female heirs to the Throne didn't lie.

"A title I hope to keep for a short time." Stannis told Robert.

Robert grinned, gesturing to a seat that had been placed beside the Iron Throne. Stannis walked up the steps and past the Kingsguard to reach it and he sat down, with Ser Davos slinking off to the side. Robert then glared down at his prisoner. "And now, I shall deal with you." He almost snarled. Robert took a step forwards. "The last time we spoke, you told me that you were not a traitor because you hadn't sworn an oath. You swore one not moments later, and yet you still rose in rebellion. Well I now denounce you as a traitor, and by my own hand you shall die a traitor's death." Two of the Kingsguard walked to one side of the room. Ser Hugh of the Vale came back and placed a wooden block firmly on the ground in front of Balon Greyjoy, who had been forced down onto his knees with his neck chains unlocked, and the Greyjoy was forced down over the block. Ser Rolland Storm meanwhile had grabbed a greatsword that was twice the size of Bran and was as thick as any sword that he had ever seen. He offered the handle to Robert Baratheon, and the King unsheathed it gracefully. The blade looked fresh forged and it shone in the candlelight. Robert rested the tip down on the stone floor and leant on the blade as his Father often did with Ice. "Will you speak a final word?" Balon Greyjoy just stared at the floor. The King gave him a moment to speak, but finally gave up. "Very well." Robert gripped the blade in two hands and swung forcefully. The blade sung as it moved through the air and severed the Greyjoy's head in one fell swoop.

Robert handed the blade back to Ser Rolland and addressed the crowd. "Let it be known that this is the treatment that traitors receive! Your House lost to history, and your head atop a spike on the Traitor's Walk. Clean this up." He ordered to nobody in particular. "Court is dismissed."

Bran felt a hand on his shoulders, and he was guided away by Lord Wyman. "Come on lad, let us go and set you up in your new chambers."

"New chambers?" Bran asked.

Wyman nodded, his chins wobbling. "The new Ser Matthos will no longer be another squire for Stannis, so you must have chambers closer to him in the Tower of the Hand." Wyman grinned. "And you best write to Winterfell to explain your news."

* * *

The march towards Yunkai was speedy in its second day. Jon had the honour of riding beside Daenerys, leaving both of their main protectors some distance behind them, reminiscing on old wars.

"Do you remember the night before?" Jory asked as his horse slowly made its way forwards. "Sat on the ship not knowing how long it would be until we saw land again?"

Jorah nodded. "Aye, I remember being woken up by one of my men saying that a breach had been made and we were to take the castle. I was in such a rush I forgot to piss."

Jory grinned. "And yet you were one of the first through the breach."

"Aye, behind Thoros of Myr waving around his damned flaming sword." Jorah reminisced. "The madman."

"I shall never forget that sight until the day I die." Jory noted. "Nor will I forget fighting beside the Kingslayer in the courtyards of Pyke."

"That day was the proudest of my life." Jorah admitted. "It was my first war as Lord of Bear Island, leading our men and women. I charged through the breach and took down more Ironborn than I can count. Robert Baratheon himself knighted me after Balon surrendered, yet now all I can remember vividly about it is how much I needed to piss as Robert said the words."

Jory snickered at that, before he sobered up. "And then came the tourney."

"That damned tourney." Jorah muttered darkly. "If Jaime Lannister had have unhorsed me in the final then I would likely still be sat at Bear Island now, no doubt some ugly woman at my side and some sons running around the place. Instead Robert granted me the victory after 9 lances and I fancied myself in love with Lynesse."

"And here you are." Jory said, knowing that the topic of Ser Jorah's Hightower wife was a sore one.

"And here I am." Jorah said, looking forwards and staring at Dany's back. "And as mad as it sounds, I'm glad to be here, serving her."

Jory followed his gaze. "Is she worth all this?" He said quietly. "Really? I remember the rebellion. I remember her Father."

"You can't have been very old." Jorah commented.

"I was 16 when the banners were called." Jory stated. "My Father took me aside and told me that I was to join him. I fought at the Stony Sept, and then at the Trident. I rode beside him as we entered King's Landing, and then marched to Storm's End as well."

"That was the worst moment for me." Jorah said honestly. "After King's Landing the thought of facing the Tyrell army filled me with dread."

"And then we broke that siege and my Father rode with Lord Stark to Dorne, and I rode home to King's Course. I never saw him again." Jory said solemnly.

"I'm sorry." Jorah said honestly. "I wonder about my own Father sometimes, what he's facing at the Wall, whether he'd ever forgive me."

Jory nodded, not knowing what to say. "But they are wherever they are, and we are here."

"Serving them." Jorah added, nodding towards the two Targaryen's in the distance.

"They've gotten closer." Jory commented. "Jon didn't come back to his tent last night."

That surprised Jorah. "Do you think they…" He trailed off, not wanting to think about what the pair had been doing.

Jory nodded. "He gave that impression when I saw him earlier."

"That could cause problems." Jorah stated plainly. "If they go to Westeros…"

"They won't." Jory stated plainly. "Not until something changes in King's Landing."

The something was obvious, but Jory didn't even want to think it. "Aye, you may be right." Jorah said, slightly downcast. "Until then we'll be following them in Essos."

"Freeing slaves." Jory said. "You can atone."

Jorah said nothing but gave Jory a curt nod. They rode on in silence for a few moments until the procession stopped by a river. "The Khaleesi must be choosing her captain." He explained.

"We should join them." Jory noted that in their discussions they'd fallen behind slightly. Jorah nodded, and together they galloped past the hundreds of Unsullied between them and the two Targaryen's, and allowed their horses drinks while an Unsullied man named Grey Worm was chosen as the leader of the eunuch soldiers.

* * *

The Lord of Winterfell was in his solar, a regular occurrence since Torrhen had 'woken up' four years earlier. He wasn't alone, as he looked down on the floor by his desk to see his daughter, Sara, playing with a wooden Direwolf. Her own Direwolf, Red, was also in the room snoozing by the fire. Ned meanwhile was signing off on the latest shipment of Dragonglass and he aimed to have a wagon sent to Castle Black in the next couple of days once Mikken had worked his magic.

As he was about to press his seal to the parchment when he felt a tug on his sleeves. Sara had walked over to his chair with her toy and had a big grin on her face. "What is it, Sara?" Ned asked kindly.

"Papa play wolf?" She asked sweetly.

Ned chuckled. "Not quite yet, little one." He saw Sara trying to pull herself up to see what was on the desk, and Ned laughed again, putting the seal down to pick her up and pop her on his knee. "Do you want to stamp the seal?" Sara nodded eagerly, and so Ned picked up the seal and dipped it in the hot, grey wax of his House. He placed it in Sara's little hand and held his own around hers, before directing it to the folded over parchment and pressing down. Sara giggled when she saw the Direwolf form in the grey wax circle.

"Again!" She cried.

Ned laughed. "There's no more Sara." He said. The young red-haired Stark pouted, but Ned picked up her wooden wolf and started pretending it was walking along the desk, causing his youngest daughter to start giggling fiercely.

A knock at the door interrupted him from entertaining his daughter, as one guardsman opened the door and announced. "Maester Luwin, My Lord."

"Send him in." Ned said in what his children all called his 'Lord's voice'. He let Sara grasp the toy and watched the door as the elderly Maester walked in. "Luwin." He greeted.

"My Lord." Luwin bowed. "A raven from King's Landing. It held two letters." He handed them out to Ned, who took them both in the one free hand he had, the other was holding Sara still. "Would you like me to take Sara to Lady Catelyn?"

Ned thought for a moment. "No, I'll do that in a moment. Thank you, Luwin."

Luwin bowed once more. "Very good, My Lord." He said before departing the room.

Ned made sure Sara was occupied and couldn't make too much of a mess from objects within her reach before he looked at the seals on the two letters. One was quite clearly the King's own seal, while one was a Direwolf head in the turquoise of House Manderly. Ned presumed that Bran had been helped by Lord Wyman and was quickly grateful that a Northman was in the Capital with his son. Putting that letter to one side however, he opened the letter from Robert. He scanned it quickly, seeing that it was initially a simple announcement that Balon Greyjoy was dead, clearly penned by a Maester. He then saw Robert's barely legible scribbles, and the King was writing to make sure that Theon would be no issue in the future, as he won't suffer a third rebellion from the Iron Islands. Ned knew that Theon meant his words and pulled some parchment over to scribble reassurance to Robert about that. Then he opened Bran's letter, and while his words were not news to Ned, he felt an ache in his heart as he read Bran's writing detail his experiences in the war, and how he had killed Tristifer Botley by his own blade while Summer savaged Theon's sister. Knowing that Ned's words alone weren't enough to ease Bran's worries, Ned turned Sara around so he could carry her with the one hand, and he stood up to leave the room, taking the letter with him.

He found Catelyn talking to Vayon Poole in the courtyard, and his wife looked delighted to see him carrying Sara, with Red following along behind them. "My Lady, Vayon." Ned greeted.

"My Lord." Vayon Poole bowed.

"See that it's done, Vayon." Cat said calmly, and the steward bowed his head at both of them and walked away. "The first fields have started their first harvest, I was ensuring that space enough was sorted for the grain."

"Very good." Ned nodded. "Here." He handed Cat the letter. He watched as she read it, shifting Sara in his hands as she squirmed, and he felt bad when he saw tears form in her eyes. Cat choked out a sob, and her hand flew to her mouth.

"He's so young…" She whispered. "To have seen such horrors…"

Ned smiled sadly and placed his spare hand on her shoulder. "He is a Stark of Winterfell, and he is a survivor."

Cat nodded, sniffing. "That he is." She accepted. "My boys… all so young and have all seen war."

"Rickon has not." Ned tried to say.

"Rickon will not." Cat stated firmly. "He is barely 6 years old, Ned."

He agreed with her there. "No, he will not. Nor will Robin." He would not send Jon's boy into a situation he clearly wasn't ready for, no matter who pressured him to do so. "And nor will Bran now, not until we all must fight."

Cat smiled sadly, and her eyes looked heartbroken. "I pray that you are right, Ned." She held the letter tight to her breast. "If you'll excuse me, I must pray."

Ned nodded, and he watched as Cat walked over towards the Sept. He held Sara tighter, and noticed her stomach beginning to growl. He grinned at her and said. "Is my little wolf hungry?" Sara had her thumb in her mouth and nodded. "Then let us go to the kitchens, I'm sure we can find some sweets."

* * *

**I figured that Jon would still have the 'bastard' stigma ingrained in him and would consider sleeping with Dany a massive lapse in judgement, so getting them to clear the air was a nice scene to right for me, as well as allowing them to clear the air with one another.**

**Torrhen has basically realised that with the Free Folk it is better to tell the truth than hide behind half truths and lies. That's why he told Tormund, and even he isn't stupid enough to go blabbing about that. I hope that was a nice surprise for you all, seeing him back in action!**

**Balon Greyjoy is dead at Robert's hand. He is trying to be a good King, and he feels that by taking a leaf out of Ned's book and swinging the sword himself is a good start. As it was from Bran's POV though, the mention of his infatuation with Fair Walda along with some observations about the court was needed. Wyman will be a good ally for him to have in the Capital as well.**

**With Barristan not being in Essos I thought having the conversation about Pyke would be good with two Northerners, and it was great to write about Jorah's past with somebody who would have both known him, and perhaps been privy to Ned at the time of Jorah fleeing.**

**Finally, a reminder that Ned has a toddler daughter in this story too with him getting to spend some time with her, as well as some information reaching him. A little bit of a filler scene, but it was nice tapping into emotional mother Catelyn again.**

**I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please leave a review or a PM with your thoughts as seeing those really makes my day. **

**Next time: Torrhen meets Mance Rayder.**

**Reviews:**

**Guest (Targaryen tradition): It was short, but they both know that there are more important things to be doing than having a reunion.**

**Rolling Mist 13: I'm not sure what you mean about Domeric's sly side, he was sincere in his words at the campsite. You'll have to wait a bit longer for Dany's story to truly veer off I'm afraid, although there will be obvious differences considering that she is loyal to Jon. **

**Andromedanaea: There won't be a big deal about Sansa moving.**

**Silver crow: The Bolton new sigil isn't an original idea but I feel it makes sense with Domeric trying to be better. I love that idea! Watch this space…**


	43. The King Beyond the Wall

**Another word count milestone this week, as this chapter takes me over 200,000 words for this story! It's looking like it will end up being my longest story so far, which is amazing. Of course I need to write more, but this period is keeping me both busy at work and extremely tired when not at work so this is my last buffer chapter again. I'll try my best to get one out for next week I'm happy with, but we'll see.**

**I hope you are all staying safe still. I know it's tough and I know a lot of people are worried about the future, but my way of thinking is this: the economy can repair itself even if it takes a long time. People dying can't be fixed however, so stay at home when you can, don't inject yourself with bleach or whatever the mad man in the White House is saying, and TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY! My country has the second most deaths in the world (we only have 20% of the USA's population after all) because we didn't react well to pre-empt this. Most of my readers are in the USA however and all the news filtering in over the pond about the nations lack of belief in the dangers of this virus actually worries me.**

**But enough of the doom and gloom, on to the chapter, as well as revealing the final person that will remember the Black Wolf Rises timeline! I own nothing but any OC's, all the rest belongs to either George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

The first thing that Torrhen saw of the Wildling camp was from above, as the tens of thousands of tents littered the gorge that housed them. He and his men stood looking down on it in a mix of awe and horror. "That's a lot of people." Domeric Bolton commented.

"Aye, and we need to save all of them." Torrhen muttered darkly.

It took a couple of hours for them to descend to the ground, and it seemed like every Wildling they walked past stopped to stare at them, looking nervously at Balerion by Torrhen's side. Tormund of course found this hilarious. "You're prettier than most of the women here." He made mention to Torrhen. "Most want to kill you, some want to fuck you first."

"They'd be lucky." Torrhen smirked. They continued through the camp, when Torrhen heard a gasp behind him. It was Cregan, staring up at an elderly giant carrying an entire tree trunk. "Don't stare." Torrhen told them. "They don't like people staring."

"That's a fucking giant." Cregan whispered.

Tormund just looked impressed at Torrhen. "Perhaps you're not a liar." He told the Stark. Torrhen didn't answer, instead he just followed the red-headed Wildling. They made their way deeper into the camp, where they saw more giants and even mammoths. A whole host of clans were grouped together, but there was one tent in particular that caught Torrhen's eyes. Sat outside skinning a handful of rabbits sat a pregnant woman that Torrhen recognised clear as day, Sam Tarly's woman, Gilly. Tormund must have seen him staring, as he mentioned. "Bad business those ones." He said, a hint of uneasiness in his voice. "They all left their husband… or Father, I'm not sure which. Anyway he suddenly died, and they came here."

"Kinslayers." Domeric Bolton muttered with disgust.

"If you knew who their Father was, you'd do the same." Torrhen countered. "Craster was an evil man, and I shall not mourn him one bit."

"You knew him?" Tormund asked.

Torrhen shook his head. "Only stories, enough to know we are better off with him dead."

They walked on a bit longer until they reached a tent that was bigger than the others. Outside of it on a large wooden pole was the upper torso and head of a body that Torrhen noticed had only his thumb and index finger on his right hand. "Qhorin Halfhand." Tormund said proudly. "He killed many friends of mine. The Lord of Bones is a cunt also, but now he is a legend for killing him."

Torrhen knew the name from Jon, and he felt uneasy at the body staring back at him. "You should burn him." He said bluntly.

Tormund grinned. "Maybe one day." Was all he said. "Your weapons." He told the group louder. The Northmen looked at Torrhen for permission, and he just undid Winter's Bite and handed it to Tormund, while the rest of the group did the same to other Wildlings.

"Bal stays with me." He said firmly. Tormund looked to disagree, but one look at the hulking black Direwolf killed any complaint that could have possibly formed.

"Hmph." Tormund grunted, before leading them into the tent. It was spacious, with a fire burning in the middle to keep the tent warmed up. Torrhen didn't recognise anybody in the tent from before, most of the Wildlings having been killed long before the Retaking of Winterfell. There was a man with a skull mask sat by the fire talking to another man, and it was the other man that stood up when he saw Tormund.

"Tormund." The man said. "I wasn't expecting you back for a while yet."

Tormund gestured towards Torrhen. "I wasn't expecting to find this one Beyond the Wall. He wanted to talk to you, Mance."

"Talk to me?" Mance Rayder, the King Beyond the Wall asked with a raised eyebrow as he walked towards Torrhen. "What could a brother of the Night's Watch want with me?"

"I'm no brother of the Night's Watch, Mance Rayder." Torrhen said calmly, stroking Balerion to let them all know the Direwolf was his.

Mance looked at Balerion with amusement in his eyes. "A tame Direwolf."

"Tame isn't the word I'd use." Torrhen admitted. "We are linked, he and I."

Mance Rayder grinned knowingly. "Then you are a Stark of Winterfell. You're a brave man coming this far North, the Free Folk don't like Starks, nor Southerners much."

"Nor do we like Wildlings much." Domeric Bolton said firmly, stepping beside Torrhen.

Mance looked at Domeric, weighing him up. "And you are?"

"Ser Domeric, of House Bolton." Domeric explained. "And this is Torrhen, of House Stark. Lord of the Causeway and the Butcher of the Rock."

"We don't need titles here, Dom." Torrhen told his friend. "They don't respect our traditions here." He turned to Mance. "He's right though, many south of the Wall have nothing but well-earned distain for the Free Folk. My Father however, values one man's life just as much as another."

"Lord Eddard." Mance knew. "I knew his brother."

"Benjen." Torrhen nodded. "A good man."

The Lord of Bones scoffed. "All he deserves is a painful death."

"Careful, Rattleshirt." Torrhen said, knowing the mocking name would anger him. "We are here for peace talks, that is all."

Of course, the Lord of Bones stood up violently at the name and made his way towards Torrhen, only for Balerion to get in the way, snarling and yapping at the boned warrior. Mance just looked amused. "Sit down, you'll find no easy targets here." Turning to Torrhen, he continued. "There is only one outcome we would accept, Torrhen Stark."

Torrhen nodded. "We know, and that is the outcome that we will strive to work towards. We may not like one another yet, but we all agree that you all living is better than you all dying."

Mance looked at Torrhen with more curiosity. "What do you know of the dead, boy?"

Torrhen knew he had to explain exactly. "I've fought them, long ago for myself but far away for everyone else. They broke through the Wall and descended on my castle. I fought them, I fought _him_." He said pointedly. "I killed him, and he killed me."

Tormund laughed. "I knew I should have gutted you, your stories are ones of a bard."

"Enough, Tormund." Mance said, his eyes wide in fear. He stepped closer to Torrhen, but Balerion obviously didn't sense any malicious intent as he didn't intervene. "You fought him?"

Torrhen nodded. "I did. With the Free Folk beside me, or what was left of them."

Mance took a step back as he digested the information. "I remember meeting your brother in this very tent." He said in a quiet voice. "I remember fighting at the Wall to get through, and I remember Stannis Baratheon charging through my ranks and capturing me. I didn't bend my knee, I burned, and I woke up beside my newly dead wife."

Torrhen was equally as shocked as Mance by that point. "You remember?" He whispered.

"What is happening?" Mance asked.

"We won, but at a great cost." Torrhen explained. "The Gods sent myself and others back to their younger selves to fix the mistakes of the past. You must have been sent back because you are the only one to make the Free Folk agree to these terms." He reached into his cloak and pulled out Ned's terms. "We have a chance, Mance, to save as many of your people as we possibly can."

Mance nodded, taking the parchment and reading through the terms. "I will have to discuss this with the clan leaders." He said honestly. "But you and your friends shall have my personal hospitality." He read the terms again. "Some won't agree."

"But most will." Torrhen said firmly. "Or they won't be invited south of the Wall. That and an end to the raiding is the only part we cannot discard. House Stark promises to protect any man, woman and child that agrees to keep the King's Peace when they are below the Wall, but we will not ask you to kneel. If your people value your lives over your pride, then we can have a happy alliance."

Mance nodded. "Lord of Bones, gather the elders." The King beyond the Wall said firmly. "Tormund, show our friends here to a tent and make sure our people know they are guests."

Tormund nodded, pushing Winter's Bite back into Torrhen's hands. "Come on, wolfling." He muttered. Torrhen bowed his head at Mance politely, hoping that he had done enough to convince the man that they were genuine.

* * *

Back in Winterfell, Ned was using his rare spare time to watch his youngest son, Robin Arryn and his ward Willem Lannister all in the training yard. They were all padded up as much as they could be and looked ridiculous, but Ned knew that Ser Rodrik would be able to get the best out of all three of them. He grinned as he saw Rickon struggle to move his arm to whack Robin around the side as the two friends began to spar, although in the back of his mind he was praying to any God that would listen to keep his youngest boy from the battle that was looming.

He heard footsteps beside him and saw the curly hair of his eldest son. "Robb." He greeted.

"Father." Robb responded. "A letter has come from White Harbour."

"White Harbour?" Ned asked, taking it.

Robb smirked. "And beyond it seems judging by the parchment."

Ned agreed, noticing that it was a different thickness to most Westerosi paper. "Jon." He surmised. He opened the letter and began scanning the lengthy report. "He writes from Astapor."

Robb widened his eyes in shock. "That's a long journey."

Ned nodded. "It seems your brother has been on a wild adventure in his time away." He felt proud of the boy. "The Dragons are growing, and Daenerys is going to retake Slavers Bay. Astapor has fallen and they move on Yunkai."

Robb grimaced. "King Robert will hear about them."

"Perhaps." Ned nodded. "Though I trust Lord Wyman and Lady Olenna will keep him at bay. Jon insists that they don't plan on making any moves beyond Meereen until it is safe for them to do so, or they are needed."

"What if they don't?" Robb asked. "What if she does end up coming for the Iron Throne?"

Ned grimaced. "I swore a vow to Robert." Was all he said for a moment before he added. "But you haven't."

"Father…" Robb began to protest.

"Robb, listen to me." Ned said calmly. "Look around you, what do you see."

Robb did as he was asked to. "People."

"Our people." Ned explained. "People that rely on me, and will one day rely on you, to keep them safe. If by some stroke of misfortune Daenerys Targaryen comes looking for vengeance for her family then I will stand by my oaths, but you will be fresh to decide for yourself."

"But Father…" Robb began.

"Remember our history." Ned smiled at his son. "Our ancestor, Torrhen, bent the knee and because of that we are here to talk today, the entire North was saved from a terrible fate. Now I have faith that Jon is correct here, but should the worst happen you must think of the North, not just me."

Robb nodded, though he clearly wasn't happy about it. "I can't wait until all talk of war is over." Robb admitted. "Years ago I would have laughed at myself for saying such a thing, but now… now I know the truth."

Ned sighed. "There will always be conflict, the coming war will likely be the worst I have ever faced. All we can do is our duty to our people. If that means I die, then so be it. I would like to survive, but the future is never certain."

Robb nodded, before he burst into laughter at the sight of Willem Lannister having knocked Rickon to the floor. "He's a decent lad." Robb admitted about the Lannister.

"Aye, just as Theon was when he arrived." Ned noted. "I am grateful for you all for remembering that he is not his family."

Robb nodded but stayed silent for moments longer. "Will you write back?" He asked finally.

Ned thought for a moment. "I wouldn't know where to send it." He admitted. "Jon knows we are thinking of him. When he is settled in one place, then I will write to him. As should the rest of you, he will be glad of that, I think."

* * *

Yunkai was an impressive city, and one that clearly wouldn't be taken easily. Jon stood with Ghost atop one of the hills in their camp outside the Yellow City and stared down towards the gates, waiting for any sign of movement that meant the Wise Masters as they called themselves had agreed to meet.

He heard a screech and turned to see Rhaegal flying towards him. The little dragon was soon perched on Jon's shoulder.

"An impressive sight." Dany's voice called, again from behind Jon. He grinned, and stroked Rhaegal's chin with his finger.

"He seems to like me." Jon explained.

Dany grinned. "He is yours, in the last life and this one. He shall be your mount when we face the Night King, I am certain of it." She looked down at the city below. "200,000 slaves." She sighed.

"Not for long." Jon insisted. "We will take Yunkai, as Astapor fell before it."

"I admire your confidence." Dany noted with an eyebrow raised. "Yunkai will not fall so easily. They know what happened in Astapor, so they won't invite us inside. They will have hired sellswords to ensure we face no easy task as well."

"Sellswords fall." Jon told her. "As do walls when enough pressure is placed on them."

Dany placed a hand on Jon's arm. "Some battles are won in a field, and some with a knife in the dark." She said calmly. "This fight will likely be the latter."

Jon grimaced. "I'm no good with that." He admitted.

Dany laughed lightly, a sound that seemed like music to Jon's ears. "I know you don't, you face your enemies head on, with sword in hand." She kissed him on the cheek. "It's part of what I love about you, Jon Snow. Your direct nature is refreshing. Yunkai however, there will be plots within plots here."

Jon smirked. "Don't worry, I won't mess anything up for you. I'll be a good soldier and keep my mouth shut while you speak with them."

Dany nodded. "The time will come for battles, don't you worry about that." They both turned back to the city and watched as the gates opened and a small procession left the sanctuary of Yunkai. "And so the taking of Yunkai begins." Dany whispered. Jon nodded, keeping a grim expression on his face as he held out his free arm for the Targaryen woman, helping her back to her tent ready to receive the envoy being sent towards them.

* * *

Sansa just wanted the day to be over. Her back was aching for the third day in a row and she really didn't want to be bothering with sewing yet another Direwolf with Septa Mordane staring down at her. Thankfully, Mira and Jeyne Poole were either side of her to help pass the time, while Beth Cassel and Arya were further away. Arya was of course miserable being sat there, but she was quiet in her displeasure, sticking to her agreement with their Father.

"Jeyne, that is beautiful!" Septa Mordane gushed as she looked at Jeyne's stitching.

Jeyne smiled, showing Sansa her efforts. It was a grey kraken, one that Sansa knew was going to be for Theon. "It's lovely, Jeyne." Sansa agreed, causing her friend to beam.

"Lady Sansa… this isn't your usual standards." The Septa had moved to hers now and was looking at a slightly crooked stitching of Lady.

"Sorry, Septa. I'm not feeling too well." Sansa said quietly.

Septa Mordane leant over to feel Sansa's forehead. "You feel fine." She commented. "Never mind, I'm sure next time will be better."

Sansa nodded with a forced smile as the Septa moved on to Mira's stitching. "Are you ok?" Arya mouthed over to her.

Sansa just nodded, continuing with her stitching. She had just managed to begin the eyes when all of a sudden she felt a sharp cramping in her lower abdomen. "Ouch!" She exclaimed, feeling tears well in the corner of her eyes as she brought her hands to the pain, dropping the stitching.

"Sansa, are you alright?" Mordane asked again, rushing to her side. Jeyne and Mira were there too, her brother's wife soothing her by rubbing her back.

"I…" Sansa wasn't sure. "I don't know."

"I'm going to take her to her chambers, Septa." Mira said quickly. She didn't give Mordane a chance to complain, instead Mira lifted Sansa up and escorted her out of the room. "Come, Lady."

The Direwolf in the corner perked up at hearing her name and trotted along after the two women, with Sansa holding the painful area, while Mira was holding something dangerously low on her backside. "Mira…"

"Don't say anything." Mira said quietly. "There are blood stains on your dress, Sansa. We don't want the whole castle to know."

"Oh…" Sansa realised everything at that moment. She nodded and let Mira escort her quickly to her chambers, where the Forrester girl quickly took control, helping Sansa out of her dress before calling for a warm bath to be drawn and for Sansa's Mother to be called. As Sansa stood there in her shift she noticed the small patterns of blood on the outside of her dress and gasped, before feeling down behind her and noticing the sticky wet patch on her shift. She gasped, and Mira turned to face her again.

"Don't worry." She said kindly, putting her hand on Sansa's chin. "It feels like the end of the world right now, but it isn't."

"When was yours?" Sansa asked.

"I was 12." Mira admitted. "I didn't know what was happening either, but my Mother got me in a tub and helped me learn what I needed to do next." Mira smiled as she turned away to grab a new shift for Sansa. "Take that one off and throw it on the dress."

"Ruin two?" Sansa asked.

Mira chuckled. "The blood will come out, and you won't be in this one for long, but you want to be comfortable when the maids come." Sansa nodded and did as she was asked to, taking the shift off. She tried covering herself up, but Mira wasn't looking anyway as Sansa was handed a new shift to put on. Doing so, Mira smiled again. "There, much cleaner."

The door opened at that point and Catelyn came barrelling in, three maids carrying a tub full of warm water followed. "Sansa, are you ok?"

Sansa nodded. "I'm fine Mother." She said, though her voice was weaker than usual.

"Her dresses are on the floor." Mira explained to the maids. "Have them washed as you would mine, discreetly."

"Of course, milady." One of them said, gathering the pile and leaving the room, the other two maids helped Sansa out of her newer shift and helped her into the tub, the warm water soothing her.

Mira then got a new dress out for Sansa, a darker blue that was a gift from Lord Bolton in the Bolton house colours. "You'll want to dress in darker colours for the next few days, I can lend you some of mine if you like." She offered.

"Thank you Mira." Cat said kindly before turning to Sansa. "There is nothing to fear." She took a cloth and began to slowly wipe down Sansa. Mira bowed and quickly excused herself, leaving Cat alone with her daughter.

"I know." Sansa nodded. "I was scared at first, but Mira being decisive helped, and then I figured… this means I'm a woman now, I can be a wife."

Cat nodded. "You can, although I am glad that this is happening while Domeric is away and it can give you time to wrap your head around the idea of laying with him first."

Sansa blushed. "Mother…"

Cat laughed. "It will happen Sansa, as much as I wish you could wait for years. I know you care for him, and he cares for you. It is only a matter of time."

Sansa nodded, her cheeks reddening. Thankfully, Mira walked back into the room then, holding a queer garment in her hands. "What is that?" Sansa asked.

"It's for you." Mira told her. "You wear it as a man would wear trousers, although the legs are a lot shorter. She showed Sansa and Cat the insides. "It is lined with Blood Moss, my Mother swore by it and taught me where it can be found and how it is used. It absorbs the blood."

"That… that is very useful." Cat managed to say finally, not having heard of this.

"The moss is common in the crownlands, but Mother ensured that the Godswood of Ironrath grew some too." Mira explained, before turning to Sansa. "You can have these ones, I made them up for you."

Sansa smiled at the kindness. "Thank you."

Mira shrugged. "We are sisters now, you and I. I would help you where I can. It differs for each woman of course, but it isn't as scary as it first seems."

Cat nodded at that. "Mira is correct." She dabbed Sansa's head with the cloth. "And we will be there for you, no matter what you need."

Sansa smiled again, before her face fell into horror. "Can we not tell Arya about this…" She trailed off, not looking forward to the amount of teasing she was going to get.

* * *

Torrhen and his men had been waiting long into the night. Cregan had succumbed to sleep, as had most of the other Northmen. Only Torrhen and Domeric remained awake inside the tent that had been provided for them. Torrhen was skilfully throwing a knife around, catching it safely, while Domeric was humming a tune.

"You should speak to Cregan." Torrhen said quietly so as to not wake the others. "He's a musician too."

Domeric smirked. "I remember him playing at your brother's wedding." He noted. "He was good."

Torrhen nodded. "Aye, he is."

Domeric's face then fell into one of contemplation. "What you said to Mance, about fighting the White Walkers before."

Torrhen grimaced, knowing the conversation that he was about to have. "It's all true." He admitted. "That's why Tormund trusted us to take us here, I told him of his life."

"It seems impossible." Domeric admitted. "But there's something about you, Torrhen Stark. You are a man greater than your years."

Torrhen smiled sadly. "The deception was necessary, and continues to be necessary." He added pointedly. "I trust each and every man here enough to tell them of the truth, but there are some that will use this information for their own gains, rather than for the good of the living."

Domeric nodded. "Tell me about it, this other life. Were we friends then too?"

Torrhen's face fell. "You weren't called back for another year, because we didn't know about the threats we faced." Torrhen admitted. "While back at the Dreadfort you again defied your Father and went searching for the bastard. You didn't have the mistrust we had and welcomed him with open arms. He poisoned you, though nobody could ever prove anything." Torrhen explained solemnly. "Ramsay was brought to the Dreadfort and groomed as the heir after your death."

Domeric's teeth were clenched in anger. "So the reason you were so adamant in facing him after I expressed an interest in meeting him…"

"He committed unspeakable crimes." Torrhen said bitterly, all the emotions flooding back into his mind. "As did your Father when he sensed House Stark was weak. They both ensured the downfall of my house. That's why I was cold when you both arrived at Winterfell initially, I didn't know you, and all I knew of Roose Bolton was his treachery." Torrhen sighed dramatically. "And then I met you, and my sister fell for you. I got to know your character and I liked it, I still do." He said with a grin. "I will always miss small parts of before, the son I never knew and the relationships I had with others, but I wouldn't change my actions here for anything. We are creating a better world, a world more united behind the true enemy, and I hope our friendship can be proof that it will work."

Domeric nodded. "I value my relationship with your family equally." He admitted. "My Father might think to use it to House Bolton's advantage, but I have no such ambition." He looked down at his feet. "When I was at the Redfort and saw the interactions between all of Lord Horton's sons I felt jealous. I never had that, and I felt jealous. That's why when I heard about Ramsay I was blinded into seeing the brother I wanted, rather than the monster he was."

"Well you have brothers now." Torrhen nodded. "Robb, myself, Bran and Rickon, we will always be your brothers." He gave a look that went unspoken, but Torrhen could tell Domeric knew it was saying _so long as you treat Sansa well_.

"I care for her." Domeric nodded. "She is sweet, nothing like I've ever known before."

Torrhen nodded. "She is kind, but she is fierce too, deep down. She just needs to unlock that fierceness." The tent flap then opened, and Torrhen and Domeric both stood up quickly, with Balerion perking up as well with a growl that awoke the other Northmen.

"Easy." Mance Rayder's voice came before the candlelight illuminated his features. "We aren't here to kill you."

"The elders agreed?" Torrhen asked, hoping.

Tormund grunted. "Some, though others think you are liars."

"With good reason." A woman's voice was heard, and another person that Torrhen didn't recognise entered the tent. She had brown hair, and a stare that chilled the Stark. "I have two daughters, young daughters. I will not risk their safety."

"Nor would we expect you to." Domeric told the Wildling woman. "Lord Stark has sworn that any who travel South will be safe."

The woman snorted. "My ancestor fought a Lord Stark once. He died at Stark hands."

"And my ancestors have been killed by Free Folk before." Torrhen said, remembering to use the correct terminology. "We are a group of people that have been forced to hate each other because of a big wall of ice. Neither me nor my Father believe that it was built to keep you out."

"Nor do I, although the Lord of Bones disagrees and refuses your offer." Mance explained. "As do the Thenns. They would rather see us butcher you and send you back to the crows."

"Rattleshirt is a cunt. And I fucking hate Thenns." The woman spat. She looked at Torrhen. "You are only a babe, how can we be sure you speak for all southerners."

"I am a Stark." Torrhen shrugged. "I can only give you the word of myself and of my Father."

Mance nodded. "Ned Stark is an honourable man, that much is known to us."

"Once you let us go, we will send word to him." Torrhen explained. "Ships will be sent to Hardhome to ferry you South and we will aid you in settling into the Gift. You can farm, you can hunt game, you can trade with us as you see fit. But I will make it clear again, any raiding, any breaking of the King's Peace and the might of Winterfell shall fall upon you."

The woman looked at Mance outraged, but Mance just nodded. "They do not want us to kneel, Karsi, only to keep the peace. That is something I can agree with."

Karsi then relented. "Very well." She looked at Torrhen curiously. "I will never trust a Southerner, but you swear my daughters will be safe?"

Torrhen nodded. "You have my word."

Karsi looked back at Mance. "Then we will do as you ask, Mance."

Mance grinned. "Thank you." He said honestly.

Torrhen breathed a sigh of relief. "We have gifts for you too, back at our camp. You can send a group back with us if you like and collect it."

"What gift?" Mance asked. Torrhen reached into his cloak and pulled out the Dragonglass dagger he was carrying and handed it to Mance. "We have steel, what do we need of this?"

"This is Obsidian." Domeric explained. "Also known as Dragonglass."

Karsi's eyes widened. "There are stories about Dragonglass, ancient stories."

Torrhen nodded. "And we have been mining it for almost two years now. We have bags of the stuff with us that we would offer to all the clans, even those that will not come South."

"What is so special about it?" Mance asked, running his fingertip along the edge."

Torrhen grinned, knowing that what he was about to say would change everything for the King Beyond the Wall. "It kills White Walkers."

* * *

**So Mance is the final person to remember! He's the only one with the power to effect real change North of the Wall so the Old Gods sent him back. This obviously relieves Torrhen, as it may have been harder to convince him otherwise.**

**I realised a bit late that this whole time the group with Torrhen would hear all about his past, so it gave me the chance to give him and Domeric a nice bonding session.**

**Blood Moss is a real thing that women used in medieval times so that's the inspiration behind that. That was certainly an interesting experience researching all of that information, and it's certainly made me respect the hardships of the experience more.**

**And yes, Jon will eventually bond with Rhaegal and that scene was partially to show that develop.**

**I hope you all enjoyed it. Next time is looking like a shorter chapter I'm afraid**

**Reviews:**

**George Cristian810: A little crazy? She was mad by the end of it. That being said, it almost seems that half the time Targaryen's just can't help it.**

**J.F.C: Myrcella and Tommen won't appear again barring maybe a brief bit towards the end. The people won't care about a sigil. His Father will, as may some of the nobles like the Whitehill's, but I think most will accept it. You have some good theories, and King's Landing will certainly play a big part over the next few chapters.**

**The Three Stoogies: I hope you liked it!**

**Freakdogsflare: His sigil was literally chosen in the last chapter.**

**Silver crow: I've updated my plan to ensure I have at least a mention of uneasiness in the Walker's.**

**Rolling Mist 13: Domeric just knew that Roose wouldn't even consider it as he still thinks that fear is a powerful weapon. Having the potential new sigil as a personal one is simply to do his little bit in dissuading the current 'Bolton narrative'.**

**RAD092515: Jon won't be getting his memories. As I've said before in other responses only one person per house will be, and both Torrhen and Dany have theirs. As for the Valyrian Steel swords, I wouldn't have mentioned them in the story if they weren't important…**


	44. Second Sons

**I'm back again with another chapter! It's a shorter one this time due to real life catching up with me, but I hit all the major notes I needed to and a small update in a bit of a filler chapter is better than no chapter at all!**

**I hope everyone is remaining safe, and I also hope that I can entertain you for a few minutes.**

**I own nothing but any potential OC's. Everyone and everything else is the property of either George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

Daenerys Targaryen was sat in her tent alone. Jon had gone to see to the defences of the camp with Grey Worm and Ser Jorah and she hated the realisation of how much she missed him when he wasn't in her presence. He had been slightly more distant since their coupling before they arrived in Yunkai, but that was to be expected from his nature.

She sighed and moved to a table, where a map with figures set out depicted the current state of Yunkai. She saw the small figures being used for the Second Sons and her thoughts turned to Daario Naharis. The last she had seen of him alive was in the apex of the pyramid in Meereen as she broke things off and bid him to hold Meereen for her. He had eventually gotten bored with that and abandoned his post in a move that had sown the seeds of the Ghiscari rebellion, but she didn't blame him for that.

She figured that she could change things here, that she could commit to a battle with the Second Sons and not have to deal with the sellswords affections this time around. She had found him fun before, but his jealousy over Torrhen Stark had proved too much, and she could only imagine what that would be like this time with her own affections focused purely on the brooding Northerner in her camp.

On the other hand, having Daario on her side proved valuable in taking Slaver's Bay. They snuck through Yunkai's walls with his help and took the city relatively bloodlessly, and he was instrumental in defeating Meereen. Sighing, Dany threw herself into a seat as she thought. Realising the benefits of having the Second Sons on her side far outweighed the prospect of battling them, Dany knew exactly what she had to do.

"Marselen." She called, and Missandei's brother who had been guarding the tent entered.

"**My Queen**." He said in strong Valyrian.

"**Send an envoy to the enemy camp. I wish to speak with the captains of the Second Sons**." She explained. Marselen bowed his head and departed, leaving Dany to plan vigorously to ensure the same outcome happened once again.

* * *

The sight of the Northern camp on the shores of the Bay of Ice was met with a wave of relief from those that had travelled into the Frostfangs. They had been pushing the ten day limit that they had set before setting off and were praying as much as they could that the camp was still there and hadn't set back off to report to Winterfell, so spotting the camp in the early morning had been a big morale boost for them all.

Torrhen entered the camp and quickly gave instructions out to his men to begin packing up. They wouldn't go back the way they had come, but instead he had decided that they would be taking the land route towards the Wall to make the Night's Watch aware of what was happening. Torrhen only hoped that Lord Commander Mormont was still alive as he would be at least accepting of the new alliance.

He was in his own tent writing out a letter for Winterfell when the tent flaps opened up and in stepped both Tormund, and the girl that had joined them for this leg of the trip. "You said you had a gift for us. Where is it?" The girl asked gruffly.

Torrhen rolled his eyes, before he signed the letter and stamped it with his seal. "It's in the wagons outside, I told you that."

"She didn't believe you." Tormund grinned, as Torrhen got to his feet and led the pair back outside. He stopped them by the wagon that held the sacks of Dragonglass and reached into one to pick out an arrowhead.

"Here, this is more your style." Torrhen said to the red headed woman Jon had once told him about briefly.

She took the arrowhead curiously, testing it. "And this kills White Walkers?" She asked, disbelieving.

Torrhen nodded. "And wights." He said for what must have been the hundredth time. "I swear it, we aren't lying to you."

Ygritte gave him a glare before snatching an entire sack of arrowheads and walking away, leaving Torrhen staring in bemusement. He could strangely both see why Jon had liked her so much, while also being a bit baffled as to why he fell for such a brash, uncouth woman. "She's a fine woman." Tormund grinned.

"She's nothing like I've ever known." Torrhen admitted.

"You didn't meet her in your magic past?" Tormund asked, blunt as always.

Torrhen shook his head. "No." He answered solemnly, and that was all Tormund needed to know to understand.

"Ah. A shame." Tormund told him.

Torrhen nodded, before he ran his hand through his brown hair, growing unkempt from his time in the wild. "You best be off if you want to catch Mance in the Frostfangs."

Tormund nodded. "Aye, we'll make good time if we leave now." He turned to Torrhen and the pair clasped arms, shaking in a mark of respect. "I'll see you again, kneeler."

Torrhen snorted a laugh. "Don't piss off any more giants by fucking their wives."

Tormund grinned as he backed away, holding his arms out in a sort of shrug. "They can't help themselves around me." The ginger Wildling then turned to face his own men. "Someone drag this fucking wagon!"

Moments later the Wildlings were retreating into the distance, leaving only the Northmen in the camp. Harwin was the first to reach Torrhen. "What is the plan now, My Lord?"

Torrhen sniffed and brought himself back into the present. "Have the raven send this to Winterfell." He said, handing the finished letter for his Father to the raven keeper. "We move for the Shadow Tower tomorrow morning."

"Aye." Came the calls from the rest of the men, and Torrhen nodded, before excusing himself to his tent to get some well-deserved rest.

* * *

Outside of Yunkai, Jon was sat in the bed section of Dany's tent sharpening his sword. Missandei was bathing Dany, although for some reason the Targaryen woman had insisted that he wait in the tent for herself to finish. It gave Jon a chance to go over the meeting from earlier in the day.

Mero was a cunt, he was more than happy to admit that out loud to anybody who asked. Jon hated his scar, he hated his face, he hated his lewd tongue that spoke such obscenities to Dany. As Jon brought the wet stone across his blade he imagined the sharp edge opening the throat of the Titans Bastard, and he grinned.

He didn't like the young one either, but he knew that the only reason was because he knew of Dany's affection for Daario Naharis in the other time. Still, the smug grin on the young man's face had irked Jon, and he hoped for his own sake that he could meet Daario on the battlefield as well.

His ears picked up the sound of a blade in the next section of the tent and Jon immediately stood up. He walked towards the partition and noticed a man kneeling before Dany through the translucent material. He pushed his way through his fingers flexing on his sword hilt as Daario began to speak. "The Second Sons are yours and so is Daario Naharis. My sword is yours my life is yours, my heart is yours."

Jon grimaced at that, but a look he got from Dany stopped him from doing anything. "Rise." Dany commanded, and Daario did exactly that. "Go back to your camp and prepare your men to assault the city. We will speak again in the morning." Daario nodded as he got to his feet and went to pick two heads back up off the floor. "Leave them." Dany commanded. "They will send a message to the Wise Masters of Yunkai."

Daario accepted that and went to depart from the tent, giving Jon a knowing smirk as he left. When he had gone Jon turned to Dany. "What was that?" He demanded.

"We now have 10,000 men." Dany shrugged. "His heart can belong to whomever he likes, I will not touch him. You have nothing to worry about."

Jon scoffed. "As long as he lives he will think to woo you."

"Do you think me weak enough to fall for that?" Dany asked firmly. "My heart belongs to one person and one person only. "Daario Naharis brings me 2,000 men. He can think what he likes so long as he brings me those 2,000 men." She walked up to Jon, still slightly wet from her bath, and leant up to kiss him. "Your jealousy is unnecessary." She whispered, leaving the room. Jon looked bewilderedly at Missandei, who just smirked and followed Daenerys out of the bath area to help her finish getting ready.

* * *

It was before dawn, and Ned was down in the training yard with Ser Rodrik before the rest of the castle arose. The reality of Torrhen going North and the imminent danger that would follow him had made the Lord of Winterfell think about the reliance that would soon be placed upon those who wielded Valyrian Steel, something that no Stark had truly done in battle with their own great sword Ice as far as Ned could remember. The blade was a cumbersome one, usually too big and bulky to wield effectively, although Ned knew that he would have no choice. That led to his decision to have Ser Rodrik aide him in becoming proficient in two handed weapons. The pair had been going for a couple of hours before the first signs of life around the castle began to stir, and so Ned placed the training blade away in the armoury and went to wash himself to prepare for the day to come.

Cat was busy with the girls that morning, so Ned broke his fast with the rest of the growing Stark family. Rickon and Robin Arryn of course wolfed down their meals and ran off to start their own sessions with Ser Rodrik, with Willem Lannister following behind them at a bit of a distance. Ned sighed as he thought of the Lannister boy. He was a quiet lad, understandably so after the death of his father and then being taken away to a new place surrounded by former enemies. Ned remembered Theon after the first Greyjoy Rebellion being the same, and he promised himself that he would help the young blonde haired Westerman to settle in better.

Robb, Wylla and Beron were sat together at a separate table enjoying their mornings together, leaving Ned alone with Torrhen's wife and Asher. Mira, ever the observant girl, noticed the look in his eyes. "What are you thinking of, My Lord?" She asked, feeding Asher a spoon of something.

"Family." Ned said softly. "As well as the future."

Mira smiled. "You have all been so welcoming to all of us outsiders to House Stark." She commented, looking over at Wylla. "I know Wylla thinks so too."

"You're no outsiders." Ned chuckled. "You are both women of House Stark now, if not in blood, in name. You have Stark sons the pair of you."

Mira smiled, using a cloth to wipe some mess off of Asher's chin. "You know what I mean, My Lord." She told him. "Given the circumstances I would understand if you wanted to close ranks, to protect only your own…"

"You are included in that now, both of you." Ned said quickly. "Your sons share my blood, and that makes you family just as much."

Mira smiled. "I appreciate that My Lord." She said honestly, before she pre-empted a tantrum from her own son as Asher didn't want to finish his meal. "No Asher, if you don't eat this now then you will cry about being hungry later. Come on, finish it."

Ned chuckled and held his hand out for the spoon. "Torrhen was the same, although that was mainly as he was copying Sansa. Here, let me." He took the spoon in one hand and picked Asher up in the other, before he gently moved the spoon from side to side going towards Asher's mouth making a clip clopping hoof like sound. Asher giggled and opened his mouth just enough to fit the tip of the spoon in, and he gulped the almost liquid like substance down. "Good boy." Ned praised.

"Thank you." Mira said. "I think he misses Torrhen."

"As do we all." Ned told her. "You especially, I sense."

Mira nodded. "I understand why he went, but we had a lifetime apart. Now we can be together again, he's running all over the world once more. I know it's important and I'm proud of him for going up there, I just can't help feeling a little lost."

Ned smiled and laid a hand on her shoulder. "He will be back, and when this is all over you will have a full lifetime together, I am sure of it."

Mira looked thankful at that. "Thank you, My Lord." She said, standing up. "Come on Asher, time for your bath."

Asher pulled a face, but Ned handed him to his Mother with a chuckle nonetheless. As she walked away, Robb came up to join him at his table with a letter. "Maester Luwin just brought this through, but he didn't want to disturb you with Asher." He explained, handing the letter to Ned.

Ned looked at the seal and was both elated and surprised to see the black direwolf wax seal on it. He tore it open and read Torrhen's words, grinning as he did so. "He did it." Ned whispered.

"He did?"

"Aye." Ned confirmed. "We must move quickly now. Send word to White Harbour to have the fleet moved to Hardhome and begin ferrying the Wildlings… Free Folk, to the Gift. We must warn Jon and Rickard as well."

"I will see to that." Robb nodded.

Ned then sighed. "And I best tell your Mother that I will be leaving too. You will once again be the Stark in Winterfell."

Robb's face twisted into a solemn one as he nodded. "Very well, Father."

Ned still looked pleased. "This is one of the final pieces. Now hopefully we can simply focus on mining the Dragonglass and seeing that all defences are as strong as they possibly can be. Moat Cailin must be completed as quickly as we can."

"I'll make that my priority." Robb nodded firmly.

Ned smiled, clasping his son on the back. "Good lad. Now… I should speak with your Mother."

Robb grinned at the sudden discomfort that appeared on Ned's face. "Good luck." He chuckled, leaving Ned alone to work out exactly how he was going to phrase this to lessen his wife's annoyance.

* * *

Ned didn't manage to get his wife alone until that night when they had retired to their bedchamber. As usual he was ready and under the covers first as Catelyn was untying her hair at the dresser. Realising that he couldn't put it off any longer, Ned cleared his throat and said. "I got a letter from Torrhen today."

Cat's neck swivelled around instantly. "And you waited until before bed to tell me?" She asked him. "How is he? Is he safe? Is he coming home?"

Ned chuckled at her questioning. "He's fine, he made contact with the King Beyond the Wall and they struck a deal, and yes he'll be home after he has been to Castle Black to instruct the Night's Watch on what is happening."

Cat had a wide grin on her face. "Good, he's been missed."

Ned nodded. "He has. But there's something else…"

Cat looked at him curiously, before she sighed. "Do you have to go?"

Ned smiled at how well she knew him. "I do. I am the Lord of Winterfell and there is still unease between the Wild… Free Folk, and ourselves. For me to be there accepting them would send more of a message than Torrhen himself can."

Cat sighed as she put the hairbrush down and she moved over to sit on Ned's side of the bed. "Send Robb, send Lord Umber… send anyone. But I need you here, Ned." She looked unusually vulnerable, and so Ned sat up and held her in his arms, kissing the top of her head.

"I must go." He said softly. "But this shouldn't be for long, I am just sailing to Hardhome and helping them to the Gift. I can't see myself being gone for longer than a month, possibly two at worst."

Cat shook her head, melting further into her husband's embrace. "What if there was a reason for you to stay?"

"What could be more important than this?" Ned asked, lightly teasing his wife.

Cat looked up at him with her deep blue eyes, eyes that Ned had fallen in love with long ago and would continue to fall in love with every time he stared into them. "I'm not certain… but I think I am with child."

Ned pulled back, looking at her entire face to look for any hint of untruth. He couldn't find any. "You are?" He asked, a grin unwillingly appearing on his own face.

"I need to go to Maester Luwin, but I feel the same as I did with Robb, with Torrhen and Sansa, with Arya, Bran, Rickon and Sara." She smiled weakly. "I'm sorry, I know the timing is awful…"

"Stop." Ned said quickly, holding her head in his hands. "This is wonderful news."

"Really?" Cat asked.

Ned nodded. "Truly. Yes the timing could be better, but the future is always uncertain. I love you, and to share more children with you will always be a delight to me, Catelyn."

Cat smiled and leaned in to kiss him, an action which Ned reciprocated eagerly. "I had worried that you wouldn't want another babe."

Ned shook his head. "After Father and Brandon… after Lyanna… I always had the thought of a large family in my mind. This babe is a blessing from the Gods, Cat. Nothing else."

Cat grinned and went closer to him, and the pair lay down in the bed together, their noses millimetres away from one another. "But you're still going to go, aren't you?" Cat whispered.

Ned nodded. "I have to, Cat. This is more important than just us. You will have our family around you while I'm gone, and it won't be for long. I should be back by the time you are showing."

Cat looked like tears were forming in her eyes, but she wiped them away and nodded. "You just be sure to hurry back, Eddard Stark." She whispered, kissing him softly.

"I swear it." Ned smiled. "I will be back quickly, I swear."

* * *

The _Jade Rose_ was a hearty vessel. Built in Oldtown as part of the celebrations of the birth of Lady Margaery Tyrell, it was a ship that had travelled between Westeros and Yi Ti dozens of times. Lemondrinker, not his real name of course but he couldn't remember his real name by this point, had made the journey ten times and was one of the oldest on the crew. He was on the oars as the ship sailed into Blackwater Bay, and his arms were grateful when they came to a halt. He took a sip of lemon water from his skin, the only type of water he would drink on the seas thanks to his old dad's warnings, before he went below deck in order to carry the crates of fabrics off of the boat so that the Captain could trade in King's Landing before they made their way to Oldtown in a couple of weeks.

"Come on, get your arse in line!" The first mate bellowed as the crewmen began filtering off the ship. Lemondrinker grabbed one of the lighter boxes, thanks to his age, and went to move off of the ship. The crew formed a line to the warehouse the captain had hired for their stay and it was a monotonous task. Lemondrinker placed one box down and then went back to the ship for the other.

On the way back to the warehouse though as he was on land, he felt a sharp pain in his hand. Yelping, he accidentally dropped the crate he was holding, seeing it smash on the ground. "Fuck!" He cried, stretching his cramping hand out. He looked down to see the silks he was carrying strewn across the floor and swore.

"That's coming out of your pay, you useless old cunt!" The first mate roared. "Pick those silks up and take them to the warehouse!"

Lemondrinker did as he was asked, noticing a rat scurrying away from him. He shook his head at the entire situation, swearing that when he got back to the Reach that this would be his last voyage. He didn't know how right he was.

* * *

**I apologise for the shorter chapter. This was for some reason a tough one to write, but now that it's over hopefully I can get back on track.**

**Only 2 major things to happen in this chapter, but I'll only go on about the first… yes Cat is pregnant! Their little tryst in Chapter 40 proved fruitful and unless something disastrous happens, another little Stark will be born.**

**I hope you all still enjoyed it, and I promise next chapter should be better, with the beginnings of a mystery in the North as well as the taking of Yunkai…**

**Reviews:**

**PAT2024: I have to admit, seeing all of your reviews over the last few days have really made me smile so thank you so much for all of them. I'll try to answer the few that I can now. Torrhen at that point (chapter 3) had told Ned everything. As for Cregan (chapter 7) Tor's journey on the isle of faces was a long one, even if in real time it was only a day and a half. That journey made him at peace with his past life and the fact he'll never know his son. Don't feel bad for Cersei (chapter 33) as she still did horrible things before the show started even if most of the worst stuff didn't happen here. Jaime will have an important arc in the final few chapters for sure. I'm glad somebody mentioned Dany's visions as if I recall rightly it was sort of overlooked by most reviewers. As you've seen since, Dany was only travelling west to Slavers Bay. I doubt I will pair Arya with anyone (chapter 40) as she's still only 11 as of now. Maybe that will change in a few chapters where a couple of time skips come into play and she becomes older, but I don't expect that to be in her future. The Jon and Dany story (chapter 41) wasn't important before in Rises but here it is a key part of the entire story as a whole, which is why I'm giving it more 'screen time' if you will. As for your latest review (chapter 43) As you can see Daario acts the same, but Dany doesn't feel the same as she did the last time. If I talk about Robert I'll fall into spoiler territory, but remember he is doing some growing as a King and a leader. The Free Folk moving has been prepared for, it's just not something I wanted to go into too much detail with. Remember as of now this whole thing has been years of preparation and discussions with all Northern Lords. They all know what will happen even if they aren't overly happy with it. And Torrhen doesn't know anything really about the wights other than what they were like at Winterfell in Rises Chapter 70. He doesn't want to risk anybody in his current party.**

**ALPHAomega239: His wife, Dalla. She was never in the show, so I used her from the books.**

**Freakdogsflare: It was mentioned in the first scene of chapter 41, and he hasn't had time to actually have it made up yet other than as a drawing. For reference, it's a white longsword with a blood red border, on a navy-blue background. The same colours as show House Bolton but a sword instead of a flayed man.**

**Silver crow: I'm not sure about love… but Mance certainly respects him so that should go a long way. As for the final battle… spoilers.**

**The Three Stoogies: They have no wish to be independent. They haven't been wronged here and all of their efforts are focused on the Night King and the army of the dead.**

**J.F.C: Dany won't stay in Essos for too long, her home is still Westeros after all, she just knows that to travel back now would be suicide.**

**Guest (Yara): It was a life or death situation and Summer wasn't going to leave that to chance.**


	45. The Autumn Plague

**While this chapter borrows a little bit from the final scene in Season 3 Episode 10, the actual point in time it takes place is Season 3 Episode 1. Also in this chapter there are simply my own interpretations of what the Shadow Tower and Westwatch-by-the-Bridge would look like. I did try my usual tactic of going off of the Westeroscraft versions, but they really didn't work well with my own imagination.**

**I also want to say that this chapter is in no way inspired by the real events that we are facing, this was all planned before the story's first chapter was released. I have taken tiny things from what my own experience of the Coronavirus lockdown entails to add some detail, however.**

**I own nothing but Torrhen and any other OC's that find themselves scattered about the place. Everyone and everything else belongs to George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

**302 AC**

Yunkai fell quickly. Jon was a part of the small group that infiltrated the city through a side door and fought through a whole host of slave soldiers before opening the gates and letting the Unsullied through. It had been over in a few hours, and Jon had the privilege of taking the banner of the Yunkish masters and laying it at the feet of Daenerys, who had simply grinned and ordered the rest of the tent to leave them before she truly showed her appreciation to Jon in every way that he was comfortable with. After she had pushed him in a bathtub and washed the blood and gore off of him intimately, and then what seemed like hours of lust filled action, they were laying together under the covers, both as naked as their name days.

"Do you think the slaves will accept you?" Jon asked, pulling her closer to him.

Dany nodded. "They did last time. Once they realise the new reality of the world they will accept their new freedom and take it. Yunkai will be a peaceful, slave free city for the first time."

So the next morning Jon found himself standing on a large rock, with Daenerys and the rest of her court at his side and the three dragons walking around the base of it, waiting for the Yunkish gates to open. Things were tense as Jon and Jorah shared an uneasy look, not sure as to whether the former slaves would appear or not.

"They will come." Dany said positively. "I know it." Jon however remained unconvinced as the minutes ticked by, until finally the gates creaked open and thousands of collared men and women streamed out of the gates towards them, only stopping when the Unsullied lowered their spears. Missandei went to step forwards, but Dany stopped her. "It has to be me." She said quietly, before stepping forwards herself to address the crowds. "**Some of you will be wondering why I came to Yunkai. Was it to conquer? Was it to enslave you as the Masters once did? It was neither of those things**." She shouted towards the gathered slaves. "**I came here to rid the world of slavery, but I can only do so much. The choice now is yours, if you wish to take your freedom you must take it for yourselves. The Masters cannot tell you no, and I cannot force you to do so**."

Jon smiled as Dany passionately shouted at the crowd, and he turned his attention to the gathered Ghiscari, waiting for a reaction.

"Mhysa!" One shouted, followed by another, followed by half a dozen more at once, until soon almost the entire crowd were shouting the same thing. "Mhysa! Mhysa! Mhysa!"

"What does it mean?" Jon asked.

He saw Dany turn around and smile. "It's old Ghiscari, it means Mother." She said calmly. Jon's eyes widened in delightful surprise, as the front rows of the former slaves stepped forwards again. The Unsullied lowered themselves, ready to slaughter if the Ghiscari men and women got to close, but Dany put a stop to that. "**They mean me no harm, put up your spears**." She ordered, and the Unsullied did as commanded. Then, with a smile on her lips, she held out a hand for Jon to take to help her down the rocks onto the ground, kneeling by the dragons as she went. "**Fly**." She whispered to Drogon as she stroked his neck, and the black dragon did as instructed and took off, closely followed by his siblings. Rhaegal however flew quickly around the rock before perching on Jon's shoulder, flapping his wings, and screeching loudly. Jon raised his hand to stroke Rhaegal's nose fondly as he watched Dany pass the line of Unsullied and head into the crowd all crying out for her. She touched hands and allowed the former slaves to crowd and surround her until she was out of sight. Jon shifted nervously, his hand shooting down to his sword hilt when suddenly Dany was lifted into the air gracefully by the Ghiscari, and Jon could only watch on, simply enamoured by the woman that could inspire the scene in front of him.

* * *

Torrhen and his men could see the abandoned Westwatch-by-the-Bridge long before they had even reached the Bridge of Skulls that crossed the cavernous Gorge that had claimed the lives of thousands over history. It stood alone, in between a pair of mountains that had once been a direct route into the North, defended by long extinct Mountain Clansmen 8,000 years earlier. The tops of the taller towers of Westwatch were crumbling, although the Northern walls seemed strong enough from Torrhen's view. The fact that it was relatively abandoned made Torrhen breathe easier, although the single plume of smoke coming from the walls as well as the fact that the ever treacherous Bridge of Skulls still needed to be traversed The bridge had no barriers, and was just a thin stretch of rock that was the only crossing of the Gorge for hundreds of miles. They took their time, ensuring to fly their banners as high as they could.

When they reached the other side as the sun began to set, they were met by a thin, old, heavily bearded man of the Night's Watch who had a pair of nasty looking hand axes on his belt. "You're all very brave or very stupid crossing the Bridge of Skulls." He said in a gravelly voice.

Torrhen didn't know the man, although he recognised the grey eyes and prominent nose, as well as the sigil moulded on the blades of the axes, a white knife in a blue pile on a field of white. "You are of Clan Burley." He stated. "I am Torrhen, of House Stark. We seek a shelter for the night before we travel on to the Shadow Tower at dawn."

The old man looked at Torrhen curiously. "Willam Burley, son of Rodrik. What the fuck is a boy of Stark doing North of the Wall?" He asked unashamedly. Torrhen recognised the name of the Father from his histories, he had been one of the Mountain Clansmen to fight against Raymun Redbeard at the tender age of 13 and had gone on to lead Clan Burley for decades, until he had died on the Stepstones fighting the last Blackfyre.

"Trying to save us all." Domeric input while Torrhen was remembering the man's family history. "I am Domeric of House Bolton."

That caught the Burley's attention. "I know of you, you wed Ned's girl."

"I did." Domeric confirmed. "House Stark and House Bolton truly united so that we can face the true threat together."

Willam Burley gulped. "Aye, that would do it. Come on in, there is plenty of space by the fire."

They entered through the gate of Westwatch and Torrhen grimaced. From the Northern side it had looked strong, but all Torrhen saw here was a single wall jetting between the two mountains. Above the gate was the strongest of the towers, although it still had a few holes in towards the southern side of it, and the other towers were almost completely crumbled this side of the wall. There was a small courtyard bordered by a small host of buildings, but there were no southern defences. Off in the distance a single-track road weaved away up the eastern of the two mountains, presumably towards the Shadow Tower.

"It's a shithole of a castle." Willam Burley said gruffly, opening the door to the main tower for Torrhen to follow him while another man in black took the rest of Torrhen's party to a different tower to set up camp. "But it's easily defendable with less than ten men and it's close enough to the Shadow Tower that you can get there in half a day, if the weather is good."

Torrhen nodded. "I just thought it would be more impressive, being such an important location."

Burley grinned, and Torrhen noticed a couple of teeth were missing. "It's as impressive as it needs to be, boy. The Wildlings ain't got passed us yet, not without us letting them through anyway."

Torrhen grimaced again. "That's the problem I am facing, we need to let them through now."

Willam Burley's face betrayed no emotion as they entered what must have been his personal chambers and he lowered himself into a tattered armchair by the fire. "I've been on the Wall for over 4 decades now, and I've been here for 2 of them." He admitted. "I've seen my friends die at the hands of those bastards, I've seen them die at my own hands. We won't forgive easily."

"I'm not asking you to forgive, I'm simply asking you to accept that to leave them North of the Wall will make everything a lot more difficult when the Long Night comes again." Torrhen said calmly.

Willam nodded. "You are a Stark of Winterfell, long before I was a man of the Night's Watch, I was a Northman. If you say this is the way, then I will help you."

"This is the way." Torrhen said without hesitation. "We have lands they can settle, we can even have them open up the few remaining castles to give ourselves more of a presence on the Wall if the Lord Commander agrees."

"He won't." Willam admitted. "The bitterness runs too thick for Mormont to invite them to share the Wall."

Torrhen nodded. "Aye you might be right."

"I've known Jeor for many years, since we were boys." Willam explained. "He'll do the sensible thing aye, but he won't like it."

"It's convincing the rest that will be an issue." Torrhen sighed. "Starting with Ser Denys tomorrow."

* * *

The worst part about Ned being away from Winterfell for Robb was having to take court. He enjoyed helping the smallfolk where he could, but the constant debates about who owned what land, who owed somebody else a certain amount of money and the minor things like that bored him. Which is why he was surprised when one of his final petitioners came to him with a guard wielding the shield of House Dustin, a sigil that hadn't been seen properly for almost two decades.

"Lord Stark." The petitioner bowed. He was a balding man with a thick, bushy brown beard.

"Welcome to Winterfell." Robb said formally. "How can I help you?"

The man wrung his hands nervously. "My Lord, I am Callor, I have served as a steward for Barrowton since the days of Lord Willam's Father."

Robb smiled warmly. "What brings you to Winterfell, Callor?"

"Squabbles over inheritance, My Lord. I am afraid to report that Lady Dustin has passed."

Robb gripped his chair tightly as he leant back, digesting the information. "I am sorry to hear that." He said honestly.

"It has led to questions over the fate of Barrowton." Callor responded. "Lady Dustin's family as well as distant cousins of Lord Willam both claim the Barrowlands. Lord Stout has taken some form of control, but he fears that House Ryswell will likely bring a host to seize control."

Robb nodded. "And I assume the people of Barrowton do not wish for a Ryswell Lord."

Callor shook his head. "We loved and respected Lady Dustin My Lord, but she only ruled as she was Lord Willam's widow. While there are still Dustin's out there, we would rather not seat a Ryswell in Barrow Hall."

"How did the good Lady die?" Luwin asked from beside Robb.

"Our own Maester has confirmed it is Winter Fever, Maester." Callor explained.

Luwin leaned into Robb and whispered. "I have had no reports that the season has changed so quickly."

"You suspect foul play?" Robb whispered back.

"Perhaps." Luwin breathed quietly, before he turned to Callor again. "Who else has been infected?"

Callor looked confused. "Nobody had when I departed, Maester. Lord Stout and Roderick Dustin, Lord Willam's cousin, had the entire wing of the castle sealed off when Lady Barbrey's fate was determined.

Luwin gave Robb an odd look, but Robb couldn't sense any trace of dishonesty in the man from Grey Wind, and so he came to the conclusion that if there was foul play, then Callor didn't know about it. "Very well. The Barrowlands is one of our biggest regions and cannot go without a Lord for long. Ser Rodrik."

"Yes, My Lord?" Ser Rodrik Cassel answered.

"Gather 500 men that will travel with me to Barrow Hall tomorrow." Robb commanded. "I shall see to it personally that the correct Lord of the Barrowlands is picked.

Rodrik bowed. "At once My Lord." He said firmly before departing to see that it was done.

"Vayon, see to it that Callor here has chambers here in the Great Keep for tonight. We shall depart after breakfast tomorrow, Callor. You shall dine with me and my family tonight and explain more about the challengers for Barrow Hall."

Callor had a surprised smile on his face. "I would be honoured My Lord. Thank you."

"Rest up and bathe beforehand." Robb smiled. Callor bowed and was led away by Vayon Poole, and the final couple of petitioners were paraded before Robb quickly before he could end court for the week. Once that was done the Great Hall filtered out, and Robb was left alone with Luwin. "Winter Fever, what do you know of it?"

"It is a fast-acting illness, My Lord." Luwin explained. "A red flush appears in the face before a fever kicks in, and it kills people between two and four days."

"Could you diagnose it after death?" Robb asked.

Luwin shook his head. "It would be difficult having not been there to see the symptoms. But My Lord, Winter Fever is highly contagious. If nobody else has shown symptoms…"

"Then somebody is likely lying." Robb grimaced as the realisation set in. "I suspect poison."

Luwin nodded. "As do I."

Sighing, Robb got to his feet, Grey Wind close beside him. "If I could spare you from Winterfell I would have you travel with me, but I need you here. You will act as my regent for the meantime, aiding Rickon and Mother while I am gone."

Luwin bowed. "I am here to serve Winterfell. I will lend you a book on poisons, as well as a history of the worst outbreak of Winter Fever. Perhaps they will come of some use."

Robb nodded. "Thank you Maester. Get a raven to Howland Reed as well."

"My Lord?" Luwin asked.

"He is the only man I know I can trust with an extensive knowledge of poisons. I shall need his help." Robb explained. "Send it to Moat Cailin, along with a message for Cley Cerwyn to tell him to find Lord Howland."

"It will be done, My Lord." Luwin bowed. As he got back to full height he had a proud smile on his face. "You are being very decisive, your Father would be proud."

Robb appreciated that, but he knew it was premature. "He can be proud if I catch a murderer and can settle this debate as bloodlessly as possible, Maester. See that the ravens are sent today, I want this over with quickly."

"My Lord." Luwin bowed again before he left Robb alone in the Great Hall, hoping that this was just a rare case of illness and not a malicious plot within the North.

* * *

The weather at the Wall was relatively calm so Willam Burley managed to get Torrhen's group over to the Shadow Tower before high noon. It was as it was named, a large tower built from a dark black stone that loomed forebodingly off of a mountains edge. Behind the tower was the start of the Wall, also seemingly coming out of the mountain to its west. It couldn't have been more than 300 feet high here, but Torrhen presumed that the gorge to the North meant that it was rare a Wildling could truly threaten the hulking tower.

They heard a single horn blast as they approached the gates, and soon they creaked open, allowing Torrhen and his men entrance to the courtyard. It was bigger than the one at Westwatch but not by much, perhaps big enough for a dozen or so people to spar together. Those that were out all began to stare at Torrhen's party, while one older man came up towards them, he had the blackened sigil of House Tarth sewn on his leathers. "Burley, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"Ser Endrew." The Northern brother bowed his head. "I found Lord Torrhen and his group crossing the Bridge of Skulls, they need to get to Castle Black."

Torrhen ignored the whispers and the stares that came from the Night's Watch brothers listening in, instead stepping forward. "First I must speak to Ser Denys." He said firmly. "He must be aware of all that is going on."

Ser Endrew eyed Torrhen curiously, but Balerion took a single step forward and growled lightly, causing Ser Endrew to nod. "Very well, follow me."

Torrhen nodded and turned to his group. "Dom, with me. Harwin, Cregan, see to it that the horses and yourselves are fed."

"Aye My Lord." Came the consenting replies, and both Torrhen and Domeric followed the Tarth knight into the Shadow Tower. They entered the centre of the tower and were met with a small cage.

"Step in. This will take you to the Commander's chambers quicker than the stairs." Ser Endrew explained as he stepped inside the cage himself. Torrhen and Domeric followed, shutting the cage gate behind him before a lever was pulled and the mechanism sprang to life, slowly lifting them upwards.

"You are from House Tarth?" Domeric asked, making conversation. "I recognise the sigil."

"Lord Selwyn's Father was my own Father's cousin." Ser Endrew explained. "Tarth is only a small island, so rather than stay under the thumb of Lord Selwyn and his… his daughter, I chose the Watch."

Torrhen didn't like the way the man had stammered as he thought of Brienne. "I have heard of the Heir of Tarth. She sounds like a formidable warrior."

"She's as ugly and ferocious as the Hound." Ser Endrew snorted. "But Lord Selwyn loves her and accepts her for who she is. I hear she performed well at both the siege of King's Landing and in the Iron Islands. I'm sure the future of my House will be strong in her hands."

Torrhen was pleased to hear that, knowing how much Brienne had meant to both his twin and his Mother. He let Domeric and Endrew converse more, knowing that the Bolton was better for that task having spent more time in the South and with their customs. Instead Torrhen focused on what he was about to say to encourage the Commander of the Shadow Tower to believe his words.

The lift stopped slowly, and Ser Endrew opened up the gate once more and directed them down a dimly lit corridor. They came to a thick oak door, whereas on the right of them was a staircase. "Through the door is the route to the Wall." Ser Endrew explained. "The staircase leads to Ser Denys' personal chambers." He began walking up the stairs, and although the lure of seeing the top of the Wall was great, Torrhen followed him. It was only a single flight of stairs and they soon reached a better decorated corridor, and Ser Endrew led them towards yet another door, knocking four times. "Ser Denys, I have Lord Torrhen Stark and Ser Domeric Bolton here to see you."

An old voice, yet strong in its conviction, called out. "Send them in." Ser Endrew opened up the doors and allowed Torrhen and Domeric in. It was a spacious chamber, and Ser Denys was sat at a desk by the roaring fire scribbling away on some parchment. He looked up as Torrhen and Domeric entered and gestured to the seats the other side of the desk. "Wine?" Torrhen shook his head, but Domeric accepted the beverage as he sat down. "I knew your grandfathers, the both of you. I fought with them in the War of the Ninepenny Kings"

"You did?" Domeric asked, surprised. "I haven't heard much about him from my Father."

Denys scratched his shaved chin in thought. "No, I suppose your Father was very young when Royce died on the Stepstones." He turned to Torrhen. "I didn't know Lord Royce Bolton very well, but I knew Lord Rickard a little better, and Lord Hoster even better than that. How is he?"

"Ailing." Torrhen said sadly. "His age catches up with him I fear."

Ser Denys sighed sadly. "A pity, he was a good Lord. My nephew still speaks highly of him."

"Lord Jason is kind. I shall let my Grandfather know how respected he is if I get another chance to meet him." Torrhen said honestly. "Until then though, we have a lot of work to do."

"I have heard of your families talks with Lord Commander Mormont." Ser Denys said cautiously. "Though I scarcely believe that, nor the talk of your powers, young Stark."

"The dead are coming, Ser." Domeric said solemnly. "I don't want to believe it either, but it is true."

"One conversation with Mance Rayder made me believe that the danger is real, my visions confirm it." Torrhen explained. "The dead march on us, and over 100,000 wildlings stand between us and them. I have no wish to give the Night King that army, and nor does my Father."

"Mance." Denys scoffed. "A traitor."

Torrhen nodded. "Aye he is, but he's a traitor that has united all the clans. Not even Raymun Redbeard did that."

"No King-Beyond-the-Wall has ever done that." Domeric added. "Until Mance."

"The Night's Watch will have a hard time with this." Denys admitted. "I have a hard time with this. I've been on the wall for almost 40 years. All that time we've been killing wildlings."

"The Wall is an impressive bit of architecture." Torrhen nodded. "But do you seriously think such a thing was built to keep out men? That's all they are, Commander. They are men born on the wrong side of the Wall. The things it was meant to keep out… they are coming again."

"We aren't asking permission." Domeric explained. "Plans are in motion, but it would be easier if the Night's Watch accept this."

"Unless we want the current generation of the Night's Watch to be the first to see the Wall fall, we must band together. The Seven Kingdom's, the Night's Watch, the wildlings. All of us side by side facing a danger of the like we haven't seen in 8,000 years." Torrhen explained.

Denys nodded. "As much as I want to ignore this, Lord Commander Mormont believes you, and your argument is a good one." He sighed. "This is truly coming?"

"I swear it, on the Old Gods and the New." Torrhen said firmly. "Winter is Coming, and it is bringing the dead."

Denys smirked at the house words. "Very well. You will find no resistance from me. Those at Castle Black currently however… that will be a different story."

* * *

Robert Baratheon was troubled. A week earlier whilst he had been out sparring with his Kingsguard a common woman had flung herself at the gates to the Red Keep crying about how the Spring Sickness had returned with a vengeance. An hour after that when Grand Maester Gormon himself had confirmed that it was a different plague, but a plague nonetheless, Robert had had the entire city locked down as if it were a siege. He was grateful, not for the first time, that he had pushed to choose Stannis as his Hand, for the Lord of Dragonstone was efficient in closing the docks, burning all the ships that had come into the city in the last fortnight, as well as ensuring that the City Guard were firm in their treatment of the commoners. A curfew had also been introduced, much to the annoyance of the population.

That was Robert's biggest issue, the morale of the people. He sat down in his chair at the small council chamber and sighed. He loved to be loved, but that mentality had made him weak and uncaring about his duties. He was a different man now however, and although he wanted nothing more than to relax his decrees, his people's safety was more important.

His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening, and Grand Maester Gormon entered. "Any news?" Stannis asked, the only other person in the room.

Gormon nodded, all the while keeping his distance, a recommendation from the Citadel for anyone who could have come into contact with the disease. "The greatest healing minds in the Citadel have gathered at Appleton Lord Hand, it is as far as they are willing to come whilst the plague has yet to peak."

"Yet to peak?" Robert grimaced. "Fleabottom is already decimated with disease."

Gormon nodded unhappily. "We have performed good initial steps, Your Grace, by putting the city into quarantine and warning the major port cities, but there is still a long way to go. We are unsure if the dead old man I saw was the first case, or if more people carried the disease in its earliest stages and left. Until we know more, we must say that this could spread far and wide."

"How many are dead so far?" Stannis asked.

"3,000." Gormon answered. "But this is still very early stages, I would expect that number to vastly increase."

Robert shook his head angrily. "There must be something we can do."

Stannis shifted uneasily. "It has been limited to Fleabottom and the docks thus far, has it not?"

"It has." Gormon confirmed.

Stannis turned to Robert. "The last outbreak of this scale killed almost half of this city. Burn the disease out early by burning Fleabottom to the ground. The houses can be rebuilt into a safer, cleaner environment."

Robert looked horrified. "Burn Fleabottom? Have you lost your senses?"

Stannis glared at his brother. "I'm trying to protect the realm."

Robert shook his head. "I will not leave my people homeless in the faint hope that this plan works. No, homelessness will spread the disease quicker."

"We should use fire to burn the bodies however." Gormon suggested. "The Hand of the King Brynden Rivers had the right idea of burning the bodies."

Robert nodded. "Ask the smallfolk for volunteers to collect the dead and have them brought to the Dragonpit. Pay them handsomely, it is a dangerous task we are asking of them. Then go to the Pyromancers, if we are to do this, we are doing it safely."

"Your Grace." Gormon bowed before he departed the room, leaving Robert to drop his head into his hands as he tried to work out any possible way to get through this.

* * *

**House Burley is an actual Mountain Clan House from the books, although no current member has been mentioned in A Song of Ice and Fire. There is a mention of two Burley's in the historical books however, with Billy Burley being a bowman in the company of House Blackwood during the Dance of the Dragons, and Lothor Burley being the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch under the reign of Jaehaerys I. **

**I don't know what Roose's father's name actually is, so I stole the most common Bolton name I could find for that. His backstory is also made up, as all I know is that Roose was the Lord of the Dreadfort at a young age.**

**On CK2 there are still a handful of Dustin's about with various relations to Lord Willam, so my backstory there is what can happen on CK2, that Barrowton was given to Barbrey after Willam's death, but as she now doesn't have any heirs the succession becomes unclear.**

**I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Please leave me a review if you have any comments or queries, they really do help me out. **

**Next time: Torrhen arrives at Castle Black and is reunited with Jaime, while a past vision comes true.**

**Reviews:**

**Magi Tail Welkin: I did PM you with a response to this, but for the benefit of other readers there was no mistake. Asher is Mira and Torrhen's son.**

**PAT2024: Ygritte doesn't have Jon to fall for here, so of course she's wild! The babies are a bit 'calm before the storm' although there's still a long period of calm to come, so expect more baby making (from the younger characters though, Cat is getting on a bit now). He's Jon in every sense of the name, and he still sees himself as the Bastard of Winterfell even if he knows he isn't, so doesn't want to risk regular sex and getting Dany pregnant out of wedlock.**

**Freakdogsflare: That was the idea behind it, something that stuck to their house words.**

**Chuck Moloney: Lemondrinker was the old man that died in the King's Landing section of this chapter, he was just there to show you how the plague arrived.**

**Tzapkeil: Perhaps the old Robert would have let it spread, but the newer Robert combined with Stannis will do everything they can to stop the spread while doing their best to protect the people.**

**Svenion: Haha yes she is! But thinking about it other that Robb and Wylla she's been with in the same place as Ned for a while after the Lannister War and she missed him terribly. Things are going to happen when that's the case!**


	46. Family, Duty, Honour

**This story has been a lifeline for me as the politics surrounding the Coronavirus continue to get in the way of a decent response. For those readers that have had family members or even yourselves affected by this virus, my thoughts are with you.**

**As they are with the family of George Floyd. I try to stay away from sharing my own views on politics for the benefit of the readers who may all have different stances, but one thing I hope we can all agree on is that the way that poor man died was barbaric. We are all one species and the colour of a man or woman's skin should never be a death sentence. I fully stand by and support the outrage coming from Minneapolis and other cities. Your voices need to be heard.**

**Away from all that though, I hope for a few minutes I can take you out of the real world and back into my version of Westeros. I own nothing but Torrhen and any other OC's, with everyone and everything else being the property of George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

"OPEN THE GATE!"

The call came from beyond the thick wooden doors that separated the South from Castle Black after a single horn blast. Torrhen waited patiently as the doors creaked open before he rode his garron into the courtyard of Castle Black, and he looked around to gather his bearings. There couldn't have been more than a skeleton crew at the central castle of the Night's Watch, and yet it was still more members of the famous order than Torrhen had ever seen in one place in either of his lives.

They were escorted to a small stables, where Torrhen dismounted and grabbed Winter's Bite from his horse, before he turned around to face with a tall, imposing looking man of the Night's Watch. "Lord Stark." The man said.

"Lord Torrhen, please." Torrhen insisted. "Lord Stark is my Father, I believe you knew him well, Ser Alliser."

He wasn't prepared to cower down before the miserable man, and he met Ser Alliser Thorne's glare with one of his own. "I was surprised to receive a raven from Ser Denys at the Shadow Tower, claiming you had come from North of the Wall."

"Duty called." Torrhen answered shortly. "I only did as I was asked by my Father. As I am doing now by being here, talking to you." He could see that Ser Alliser wanted to make a remark, but thankfully the elder man in black refrained from doing so. "We are here to tell you what is happening. The Wildlings are to be relocated into the Gift, and more preparations for the coming Winter will be made to give us all a better chance of survival."

That didn't go down well, and the few brothers of the Night's Watch within hearing distance were all outraged and made that known. Torrhen ignored them all for a stare off with Ser Alliser, who's glare had almost doubled in intensity. This stare off went on for a few seconds before a small party came down the stairs from the common hall. "What is going on here?" A loud voice exclaimed.

It was Ser Jaime Lannister, surrounded by what looked like a small number of Westerlanders that had been sent to the Wall after the war. Torrhen felt his hand drop to his sword hilt just in case, and he noticed his men grow tense at the appearance of their former enemies. Ser Alliser didn't take his eyes away from Torrhen when he said. "Lord _Stark_ here is explaining to us that our enemies for thousands of years have been invited to live South of us."

Balerion growled and bared his teeth at the elder man, whilst Jaime looked curiously at Torrhen and the rest of the Northerners. "Very well, that was the plan that Lord Commander Mormont agreed to, was it not?"

"Lord Commander Mormont and his host haven't returned in a year." Thorne stated unhappily, eying Balerion cautiously.

"And yet until he is confirmed as missing or deceased, he is still our Lord Commander and his orders hold." Jaime stated bluntly. "As Acting Lord Commander, you should know this, Ser Alliser."

Torrhen saw the biggest of Jaime's group flex his fingers on a huge axe, and obviously Ser Alliser noticed that too, as he snapped his attention to Jaime and scowled furiously, before he turned back to Torrhen. "You have our hospitality for a night." He growled, as he swept his cloak dramatically and stormed off. Others dressed in black followed suit, along with the tall axe wielder and the rest of the Westermen. Jaime however, walked over to Torrhen.

"Stark." He greeted.

"Lannister." Torrhen responded likewise. They clasped forearms in a firm handshake. "Black almost suits you."

Jaime scoffed. "Not as much as gold I find, but it will do. What brings you here?"

"I'm simply explaining what is happening as we speak." Torrhen shrugged. "Better for you to know now and make your peace with it than for Thorne to find out after the fact and do something stupid."

Jaime nodded, looking back at where Thorne disappeared off to. "He is prone to that." He mumbled. "Come, let us go and talk somewhere more private."

* * *

As Septa Mordane gushed further over Sansa's stitching of a blood red Direwolf, Arya decided that she hated sewing. She'd come to that conclusion a lot of times before of course, but this time she really meant it, she _hated_ sewing. Her ship looked more like a wagon, and she had no idea how that had happened.

She actually groaned out loud when Mordane came over to see her, and the Septa tutted loudly. "Arya Stark, that's no way for a Lady to react."

Arya scowled. "I'm not a Lady." She muttered.

"You are a girl and your parents are Lord and Lady Stark, therefore you are a Lady, no matter how many times you get away with swinging a sword and acting like a boy." Mordane scolded. "Come, let me see." Arya shoved the stitched towards Mordane. "Oh Arya, when will you learn?"

"Never!" Arya shouted, not being able to control herself. "I won't ever learn! Sewing is stupid, I should be out in the yard preparing!"

Mordane tightened her lips together. "Lord Stark was clear…"

"I know what my Father said." Arya said grumpily, folding her arms.

"And so while you are here, you will try your best." Mordane instructed. "Those were the rules." The Septa handed Arya her stitches back. "Unstitch that and try once more."

Arya almost felt tears in her eyes, but she shook them away and aggressively began to undo her work. Sansa leaned over and whispered. "Do a flower, they are easier."

"She can't be helped, Sansa." Jeyne Poole scoffed. "Not when she's so upset about her lover."

Arya's head rocketed round to stare at Jeyne. "What?" She asked.

Jeyne smirked. "Your lover! We know you're so angry because Cregan Glenmore ran away from you."

"He didn't run away." Arya scowled. "And he's not my lover." She let out a noise of disgust.

Jeyne nodded, looking almost apologetic when she snorted and burst into laughter along with Beth Cassel. That caught Mordane's attention. "Girls!"

"Sorry Septa." Jeyne said politely, before she started snickering behind the old woman's back.

Arya had had enough at that, angrily getting to her feet and throwing her sewing kit at Jeyne, hitting her square on the forehead. "He is not my lover! But if I had one, at least he wouldn't be a traitorous cripple like yours!"

She only saw the briefest hint of Jeyne's shock before she bolted out of the room as fast as she could, not knowing where her feet were taking her until she found herself right in front of the archery range. She angrily stomped over to grab her bow and some training arrows before she began clumsily firing towards the targets, not doing very well. She could hear Torrhen in her mind telling her to lose her emotions and to breathe normally, so after nocking another arrow she tried closing her eyes and taking deep breaths, before opening them again and firing, hitting the centre.

"You've gotten better." Arya heard her sister say. She lowered the bow and turned to face Sansa, anger in her eyes.

"I want to be alone." Arya scowled.

Sansa snorted breath through her nose as her lip curled slightly in a small smirk. "Peace, sister. I told Jeyne to leave shortly after you ran out. She was out of order."

"You did?" Arya asked, surprised at that.

"Of course." Sansa told her. "She started it and she had it coming. You were a bit harsh on Theon it's true, but anybody could see you were at the edge of your tether."

This was a first and Arya didn't know how to react. "Thanks, I guess." She mumbled. "I didn't mean it, about Theon."

Sansa smiled, pulling herself up to sit on the wooden fence. "I know." She smiled brightly. "And in the future you should think these things instead of say them. In our position sometimes we need to be the bigger person."

Arya snorted. "Who made you all wise?"

Sansa grinned in amusement. "I suppose knowing I will soon be the Lady of the Dreadfort means I've had to grow up quicker." She said honestly. "Dom is a few years older than I am too, and our conversations were always very mature. He's taught me a lot."

Arya looked down at her feet. "Are you saying because I won't marry I'm immature?"

Sansa shook her head quickly. "No! Gods no. Peace, Arya. I know we haven't always been friends, but we are sisters. I know we also have Sara but she's basically a babe, we will have a completely different relationship to the one you and I should be sharing."

"I'm sorry." Arya said. "I've just had so many years of being laughed at by you and your friends… It's hard to forget."

Sansa to her credit looked abashed. "I cannot apologise enough for that. I was a foolish girl with silly dreams and thoughts. I should have learnt sooner that if I was nicer to you, my pillows would simply have feathers inside instead of sheep shit."

Arya couldn't contain her laughter. "You used the proper word!" She exclaimed. "You usually say shift."

Sansa smirked. "As I said, I've grown up." She then looked down at Arya sympathetically. "Why did the mention of Cregan get you so angry?"

Arya shrugged. "He's a friend, that's all. I like his lessons more than everyone else's."

Sansa smiled knowingly but didn't say anything else about it. She pushed herself off the fence and landed gracefully, straightening her skirts. "Come on." She said brightly.

"Where are we going?" Arya asked.

"To apologise to Jeyne for throwing your stitching at her, as well as to Theon for your words." Sansa explained. Arya was about to protest when Sansa held up a finger to her lips to stop her. "No questions or complaints. She will apologise to you and you will do the same back, or I will forget to remind Septa Mordane to keep your little outburst quiet from Mother."

Arya gulped at the thought of Mother knowing all about it. She huffed and stomped her foot quickly before she turned to put her bow away. "Fine." She grumbled. "But I'm apologising second!"

* * *

Jaime led Torrhen to the cage that rose up the face of the Wall towards the top, and they stopped on a platform that just sat over the edge but gave a magnificent view. Torrhen stared in awe at the vastness of the Haunted Forest laid out beneath him, and he could see as far as the Frostfangs to the west.

"It's impressive." Jaime commented. "Even I was in awe a little when I got to come up here."

"You seem to have settled in well." Torrhen noted.

Jaime smirked. "Ser Alliser knew that with the sheer number of prisoners from the West they needed someone in command to keep them in line. That role clearly fell to me."

Torrhen nodded. "Good, you may disagree, but command suits you."

"It's been strange." Jaime admitted. "From coming here miserable after losing the war and my family, to facing off against Thorne, who hates me for killing the Mad King, the Maester who also hates me for killing the Mad King, and even Victarion Greyjoy, who tried to kill me one night."

Torrhen grimaced. "Is he still here?"

Jaime snorted. "He's the only one that actually scares Thorne, we came to an accord and he's been loyal since. His time in the ice cells gave him perspective it seems."

"I'm glad, he's not an enemy my family wish to face again." Torrhen said, remembering Robb's account of his fight with the large Greyjoy.

"I'd take a thousand Victarion Greyjoy's over what you believe to be coming." Jaime admitted. "Thorne wasn't wrong, I've never seen the Lord Commander or even a single man that travelled with him since I've been here. The men are getting restless."

"They need to hold on." Torrhen said, racking his brains to remember anything that his past life's Jon had told him about his time before becoming Lord Commander. "Rash decisions here could harm everybody in the South."

"Rash decisions anywhere could harm everybody in the South." Jaime rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, I know the importance of the Wall staying strong, and thankfully enough people still respect me enough for my words to mean something."

"Long may that be the case." Torrhen noted with a smirk, before that fell. "I don't trust Thorne."

"Neither do I." Jaime said calmly. "But he does have seniority."

Torrhen sighed. "We'll be using the Eastwatch tunnel for the mammoths and giants, but thankfully everyone else will be on the boats. Just ensure that they can get through safely, and we can settle them peacefully."

Jaime looked at Torrhen as if he were mad. "Giants?"

"And mammoths." Torrhen nodded. "They're real."

Jaime shook his head with a smirk. "All of Tyrion's stories are coming true. Next you'll be saying the dragons are back."

Torrhen could only grin.

* * *

The last few days had honestly been the first instance in the time since Bran Stark had left Winterfell that he truly missed it. The situation in King's Landing scared him. He wasn't allowed to leave Maegor's Holdfast at all now due to the ongoing plague spreading through Fleabottom, and he had taken to spending his free time sat on the balcony of one of the upper corridors so that he could watch the city below. It was peaceful, and Bran could usually almost pretend that everything was fine.

That blissful ignorance was impossible to come by today, however. Grand Maester Gormon had been forced into isolation earlier that day after he had contracted a sudden fever, along with buboes on his neck. The fact that the castle's most senior medic could contract it terrified the young Stark, and he hugged Summer closer to him as he stared out over the city.

"Lord Stannis was wondering after you, Brandon." An elderly voice came from down the corridor. Bran turned to see the shining golden armour of Ser Barristan Selmy walking towards him.

Bran sighed. "I'm sorry." He said downheartedly.

"I know you must be scared." Ser Barristan said kindly.

Bran nodded, noticing that his hand had started to shake. "I don't want to die." He told the elderly knight.

"We are in the safest part of the city, Brandon." Ser Barristan tried to reassure Bran, although it didn't work very well.

"The Grand Maester caught it." Bran said pointedly.

That didn't deter the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, however. "And he has been moved to the farthest point of the castle for all of our own safety." He smiled down at Bran. "Come, let us see what Lord Stannis wants together, and then how about we find some place that I can spar with you?"

Bran grinned, momentarily forgetting the city's predicament. "Yes please!" He exclaimed, jumping to his feet and causing Summer to wag his tail in excitement. Barristan chuckled as he led the youngster back towards the staircase.

* * *

While her two daughters were speaking over by the archery range, Cat had been left with her youngest daughter and her two grandsons whilst their mothers performed other duties elsewhere. She didn't mind looking after the babes of course, but in the back of her mind she was worried. Ned, Robb, Torrhen and Bran all being away from Winterfell at once had put her in yet another state of unease.

She shook that aside as she watched from her chair as Sara curled up against her Direwolf, Red. She was drawing something using some form of charcoal that Luwin had given the toddler, while Beron and Asher were copying their aunt, fairly unsuccessfully. Cat continued with her sewing, a new shirt for Beron made out of some of Rickon's old things. She sighed looking at the future Lord of Winterfell. The 18-month-old's hair was straight, unlike his father's, and had already grown to almost his shoulders. She personally would have cut it long ago, but Wylla liked it long and so Cat stayed out of it.

Asher meanwhile had barely turned one. He was slower than Beron was by not walking or saying much at all just yet, but he was extremely affectionate, always enjoying being close to somebody. Cat looked up at the youngest of her grandsons and smiled as he crawled over towards Sara and the large red Direwolf, snuggling in beside his aunt.

"Lady Catelyn." An elderly voice said quietly from the doorway. Cat turned to see the Maester.

"Luwin, come in." She said quietly.

"A rider from Riverrun, My Lady. For you." Luwin explained, handing her the parchment. Cat took it and began to open the seal when her daughter spotted Luwin.

"Luwin!" Sara exclaimed, clumsily getting to her feet. Asher began giggling and crawling after her as Sara ran over towards them. "Look at my drawing!"

Luwin knelt down and looked. Catelyn saw a scribbled black wolf that had legs strewn all over the place. Grinning, Cat unfolded the letter, and her joy immediately turned to despair.

"Lady Stark?" Luwin said quietly, noticing her change in emotion.

Cat blinked back tears. "My Father has passed." She croaked out quietly, so the children didn't hear her. "Edmure says it was peaceful."

Luwin looked saddened too. "I'm truly sorry My Lady."

Cat appreciated that. She stared down at the words one more time. "I said I would visit him a while back, but I never got the opportunity. Now I never will." She sighed and wiped the tears from her eyes, standing up. "Luwin, could you…" She looked at the children, all blissfully unaware of the emotional turmoil Cat was beginning to succumb too. She saw Sara having a childish conversation with Beron and a sad smile struck her lips before she fled the room, trying her hardest not to break down into tears until she was safely locked away in her chambers.

* * *

**Another shorter chapter I know, but things are about to start ramping up as we are now in the final 20 chapters of the story. **

**Torrhen at the Wall… I hope I did it well enough. It was at first the main point of this chapter but with it not coming out as long as I'd hoped I switched focus a bit to family and changed the title to the Tully House words. I did want to portray Torrhen and Jaime as equals in the others eye, so I hope that came across ok. The dynamic at the Wall was also an important point I wanted to get across, with Thorne and Jaime being powerful people in Castle Black.**

**In Winterfell, the main bit in my plan was meant to be the reaction to Hoster dying. The Arya/Sansa chapter was a late addition, but I'm really pleased with it, showing that Arya's struggling with keeping her promise when most of the male role models at Winterfell are elsewhere. I want to stress that Jeyne is doing good deeds with Theon and looking after him, and it's both the stress of that and her usual anti-Arya banter that came out here. It's Arya's POV so of course it may look even worse. The main point however was showing a matured Sansa sticking up for her family.**

**Finally, the vision from Chapter 19 in King's Landing! A few of the reviewers back then were correct at guessing a plague was spreading, and with it affecting the Grand Maester, Bran is worried.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, next chapter is a Robb heavy one as he arrives at Barrow Hall to get to the bottom of Barbrey Dustin's death.**

**Reviews:**

**TitanX0011: Not quite, but it is quite spooky how current events matched with an almost year-old plan!**

**Mister LaGuardia: For the most part it was coincidence, but I'd be lying if I said none of the scene was inspired by current events.**

**Titan07: No. Torrhen is a monogamous person who is deeply in love with his wife.**

**RHatch89: Then I hope you'll enjoy the next chapter!**

**PAT2024: I'm attempting an update a week so the story should be completed around the first weekend of October. Jon didn't sleep with her, but there are other ways of being intimate with another than the standard baby making procedure. As I don't think I've mentioned this and because PM notifications aren't being emailed, I responded to you about your reviews to the other stories.**

**yesboss21: Most of your reviews have been answered in the actual story, so I'll just go through the ones that haven't so far, avoiding spoilers of course. The Forrester Sanctuary might exist beyond the Wall but I'm not going to bother with it. The Sparrows won't be an issue as the story in King's Landing will be vastly different. Torrhen knew how to warg because he's literally lived a life before in my story Black Wolf Rises. Dorne is sitting patiently, waiting to see what's happening. The two Clegane's are dead, with Sandor dying in the Battle of Casterly Rock, and Gregor being executed before that after the Battle of Wayfarer's Rest. Torrhen can't speak the Old Tongue, only High Valyrian and a bit of the bastard versions of Ghiscar. Robin will be sent back when he is capable, but for now he's still young. Some ASOIAF characters are involved when there are no show characters to take up their part of the story. Bran isn't dying via wildfire.**

**Chuck Moloney: I haven't forgotten about Euron… but this is Season 3 in the show timeline, he doesn't appear until Season 6.**

**Bob: When I write the next chapter. It will probably be the story I focus on after this one though. Don't worry, it will be completed eventually!**


	47. Lord Dustin

**This week has been crazy. I said my bit last chapter and I won't repeat myself, but it's important not to be silent on the issues currently plaguing the globe. I stand with the BLM movement and fully support them in their peaceful protests, but what I can't stand with is the needless violence without provocation towards those that don't deserve it. While I can't bring myself to condone some of the violence in the United States, which from what I can see is mainly brought about by the obscene heavy handedness of the police and other forces, the scenes in my own countries capital, London, recently with protestors attacking our police were disgraceful and potentially damaging to the point of the protests. If you are out and about protesting, please stay safe.**

**On to this chapter however, and some bits of information for you all. I borrowed the Dustin House Words from a comment posted by u/Brutusness on a 2012 post about unwritten house words on the r/asoiaf subreddit as it made sense to me in terms of my own depiction of House Dustin and the original characters within that house. My own personal casting for the two Dustin's in this chapter would be Finn Wolfhard for Edrick Dustin (Season 1 of Stranger Things in this chapter as he's young here) and a bearded Lee Pace for Roderick Dustin. Malcolm McDowell would be my Rodrik Ryswell, but you can obviously fancast your own actors/imagine them however you want if you wish as it doesn't make much difference.**

**I own nothing but any OC's that appear in the chapter. All rights for the borrowed characters and settings here belong to either George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

The Shivering Sea by Hardhome was now filled with dozens upon dozens of Northern ships all bearing the Direwolf sail of House Stark. The Manderly's had been busy and had hired Braavosi designers when first tasked with building the fleet, and so in the years between the first gathering of the Northern Lords and this moment, almost 150 ships of all sizes had been built and were seaworthy. Ned was in the first longboat sailing away from _Frostfang_ towards the Wildling fishing town and the Lord of Winterfell was just staring in awe at the amount of people on the coastline. Beside him, Stark guard Hallis Mollen gulped.

"That's a lot of people we are taking beyond the Wall." Hallis said cautiously.

Ned agreed. "Think of the alternative though, all of these people rushing at you with bright blue eyes, not tiring and trying to kill you." He had seen enough of Torrhen's one battle with the wights to be afraid of the prospect. "These people will likely try and be aggressive verbally, don't react. Let me do the talking.

"Aye, My Lord." The three other men on the boat said, and Ned set his jaw as the boat neared the muddy shore.

Ned was the first one off the boat and he stood tall, not letting the suspicious looks of thousands of men and women nerve him at all. He waited for his other men to get off the boat, with Hallis Mollen carrying the Stark banner, before he took a few steps forwards when he noticed that the Wildlings had started to part, creating a pathway up towards the largest hut in the town. The walk felt longer than it was due to the sheer number of people crowded into Hardhome, and that was made longer with the looks of revulsion and disgust on the Wildlings faces. Ned even noticed one woman barge her way to the front and spit towards him, but he held his hand out to stop his men from retaliating. "These are our allies now." He said calmly. "Let us continue on to see their King."

Ned walked briskly towards the hut that they were being shepherded to, entering the door to see a group sat around eating at the fire. It was an open room, and even the fire in the centre couldn't quite keep out the chill. Around the circular brazier stood a number of the Wildling chiefs and chieftesses, all of them staring at Ned equally as suspiciously as the men and women outside. Opposite the Lord of Winterfell on the other side of the brazier stood a man in darkness, who began to step forwards, illuminating himself in the light.

"Lord Stark. It is an honour to meet you again." Mance Rayder said calmly, though his voice was cold.

Ned was confused at the again remark for a moment until Mance's full face came into view. "You were in Winterfell almost 20 years ago." Ned commented. "You came with Lord Commander Qorgyle and spoke with my sons."

"Just the elder two." Mance nodded. "I believe they were plotting a prank, all I did was not tell on them."

"A different time." Ned remarked. "Now Robb has led men into battles, Jon is travelling Essos, and you are the King-Beyond-the-Wall, with the loyalty of over a hundred thousand."

Mance smirked. "Until they decide I'm not fit to rule."

A woman scoffed. "Don't fuck with your words, Mance. You know we here at Hardhome believe in your plan." Ned turned to her voice, and the woman stared down Ned. "Karsi." She greeted.

"I wish we had met in different circumstances." Ned admitted. "But the reality is, we have been brought up not liking one another. My ancestors have put down countless invasions of your people, and your people have killed my ancestors. We are here, today, to prove to you that those days are over."

Mance nodded. "A month ago we may have stubbornly argued over this, but not now." He looked around. "We are all in agreement that this is the right move, to both survive and to win." The agreeing murmurs bolstered Ned's resolve. "You have heard of the Fist, have you not?"

Ned had. "The Fist of the First Men. A sacred site."

"A site of a massacre." A big ginger bearded Wildling growled. Ned recognised him from the visions that Torrhen had shown him a few years earlier, but he didn't need to remember the name as Mance turned to face the man.

"Tormund." The King-Beyond-the-Wall said, holding his hand out calmly before returning his gaze to Ned. "We came across hundreds of dead horse parts, gallons of blood stained the snow, but no human bodies."

Ned grimaced. "You think the Night King got to them?"

"Well it wasn't us." Karsi smirked. The laughs around the room were half hearted, but Ned could gather just how much hatred there was between these people and the Night's Watch from that simple comment.

"We know who it was." Mance said without the amusement of the others. "And that is the point."

Ned nodded. "We have our entire fleet ready and able to start shipping you to the Gift where plots of land have been set aside for each tribe as you discussed with my son, Torrhen."

The chiefs murmured between themselves for a moment. "He was very young to be sent this far North." Karsi admitted.

"He's old for his age." Mance said before Ned could interject with anything. "And smart, he knew what he was doing."

Ned appreciated the praise there. "He's a good lad for sure, and he was adamant about this plan becoming a reality." He looked around the room. "I swear to you all by the Old Gods, this will be a brand-new world for both the North, and the Free Folk." He made sure to get the right name of their people. "The longboats should be ready to begin taking the first wave of your people to the ships."

* * *

Barrow Hall was a large wooden keep that offered a fantastic view over the Barrowlands to the North. Robb was stood in the Maester's tower staring out at the hilly horizon going over his last day in his mind. His own force of 500 men had met with the Ryswell host of 250 as the latter had been forced to camp outside of Barrowton. Thankfully Robb's presence had been key in disbanding the Ryswell host and encouraging Lord Harwood Stout to open the gates of Barrowton and allowed Robb, his men, and a small party that followed Lord Rodrik Ryswell, including Roose Ryswell, the 12-year-old thirdborn son of Lord Ryswell who was being touted as the Lord of the Rills' chosen heir to Barrowton.

Pretty much as soon as Robb had entered the castle he had been bombarded with claimants and hearsay, and Robb had immediately shut them all down. Lord Stout had directed Robb to the Maester's chambers to await Howland Reed who had arrived less than an hour after Robb had, and Robb had immediately tasked the Crannogman with discovering what had happened with Lady Dustin.

Steeling himself, Robb took a copy of the Dustin family tree and made his way down to the main hall. He sat himself down in the Lord's chair and began tracing the history back to work out who initially had the right. Willam Dustin had been an only son whilst his sister had married into House Flint of Flint's Finger, and so Robb had to go back another generation and work down that line to find the eldest living Dustin. It seemed that the next eldest brother of Old Lord Denys Dustin had had three children, two sons and a daughter. Roderick Dustin was the elder son and was still alive, while the younger son had died at Pyke in the first Greyjoy Rebellion leaving behind a newborn boy, Edrick, who was now 12.

Roderick Dustin, Edrick Dustin, Denys Flint, Roose Ryswell. Those were the four names that arguably had the best claim to Barrow Hall. Robb shut the book and steeled himself for the coming talks. "Let the claimants enter." He told the steward Callor on the door and stood up to welcome the men entering the room.

Lord Ryswell looked the sternest, holding his son's shoulders tightly as he stared up at Robb intently. Lord Robin Flint had also travelled with his second son, a man of Robb's own age, Denys. Finally there was Roderick Dustin, a grim looking, fiercely bearded man with hints of grey in his hair. He wore a yellow surcoat with his House sigil over his armour, probably to show that he clearly felt like he should be the next Lord, Robb thought.

"Welcome, My Lords." Robb greeted warmly. "Thank you all for being so patient whilst we came to a conclusion over this matter."

"There was no need to drag this out." Rodrik Ryswell scoffed. "Barbrey was a Ryswell, and without an heir of her own the next Lord is clearly her younger brother."

"Oh do fuck off." Roderick Dustin groaned. "We don't want another Ryswell in Barrowton, not whilst Dustin's live."

Rodrik Ryswell's nostrils flared as he turned to face the Dustin, and Robb knew he needed to intervene. "Enough!" Robb raised his voice to catch their attention. "This will not turn into a petty argument. Lord Rodrik." He turned to face the Ryswell lord. "The rules of succession are clear. Lady Barbrey gained the castle as she was Lord Willam's widow, after that the castle should revert back to the heir of its last Lord." He could sense that Rodrik was about to explode in an angry tirade. "But I appreciate your claim, and I will see to it that we can all leave happy." He turned to the other two. "Denys Flint is Lord Willam's nephew by his sister, but again, Barrowton needs a Dustin in command whilst the family still lives, and the people living here agree. Lord Roderick, I would name you the Lord of Barrow Hall. You have the best claim along with the name."

"A wise decision, My Lord." Roderick bowed his head.

"Wise?" Robin Flint laughed. "I would disagree."

Rodrik Ryswell nodded as he looked accusingly at Robb. "Your Father would…"

"My Father." Robb interrupted. "Taught me everything I know. If you wish to argue against my decision, Lord Ryswell, then you are also arguing against him, your liege lord." The Stark guards in the room all tensed up at that, and Rodrik looked around knowing that he was beaten.

Robin Flint went to say something more, but his son stopped him. "Father, Lord Robb is right. I do not know these lands, all I know is Flint's Finger." He turned to Roderick. "My Mother would have been grateful that the Barrowlands flew the long axes once more."

Roderick bowed his head again. "She was a fine woman."

"I would go further to tie us all together." Robb stated. "Roderick, your heir will be your nephew, Edrick. You shall arrange a marriage with a noble woman of the Rills and your two regions shall be as united as they have been for the last 30 years."

"It will be arranged, Lord Robb." Roderick nodded.

Robb turned to the Lord of the Rills then expectantly. "My family does not have a daughter old enough for Lord Dustin." Rodrik said, using the title snidely. "Lord Mazin does have a daughter old enough to wed, however. I can encourage him to accept."

"Excellent." Robb smiled. "And Lord Flint, your daughter is how old?"

"Danny will be 14 this year." Robin answered.

"Then she should be betrothed to Edrick." Robb told them. He stood up from the seat. "Does anybody have anything that they wish to add?" He waited barely a second for a response. "No? Good. Lord Roderick, I shall sup with you at dinner tonight." And with that he left the room, leaving the rest of the occupants to digest the rulings that Robb had given them.

* * *

Death loomed in the air of the Red Keep wherever Bran went. Over the past couple of weeks the situation had become extremely dire. The Grand Maester had died of the plague first, then closely followed by Ser Mandon Moore of the Kingsguard, and Ser Balman Byrch, the husband of Lady Falyse Stokeworth.

Bran was terrified, and as best he could he stuck to his own chambers when he wasn't required to perform any duties for Stannis. Unfortunately for the young Stark, he was required in the Small Council chambers today. He stood in the corner with a wine jug in his hands as the Small Council were debating the current events.

"1,573 bodies were burnt on the Wildfire pyre last night." Renly explained to them all. "The Pyromancers are happy that the fire is contained while continuing to burn."

Robert sighed. "That's more than the day before."

"The Arch Maester's in Appleton say that the disease has not spread outside the city walls." Lady Olenna explained. "We contained it well enough."

"That doesn't stop the people from dying in their thousands daily." Lord Wyman told them. "Even in the Red Keep. Black Walder Frey died earlier this morning."

Silence fell over the table as the news settled in. "The Queen? Princess Ellyn?" Stannis asked.

"Safe thus far and showing no symptoms." The replacement Maester for the time being, a middle aged Riverman named Ellor, stated. "They have been placed in the Maidenvault as your instructions stated, Your Grace."

"Good." Robert nodded. "No harm can come of them."

"It is grave news though, with deaths so close to the King." Lord Wyman grimaced.

Stannis nodded. "We need to act, Your Grace." He said to Robert.

Robert nodded. "Fuck!" He slammed his fist on the table. "You may have been right, Stannis." He turned to Renly. "How quickly can we have Fleabottom cleared?"

Renly thought for a moment, tapping his fingers on his chin. "2 days, max."

Robert was also deep in thought as he looked at a detailed map of the city and the plains around it. "Gather the skilled from all over the city. I want builders, architects, anybody with any decent amount of brains. Set anyone from Fleabottom that falls into that category and their families up in tents in the central square and have them start drafting a new, cleaner Fleabottom. The rest, we shall have to make do with a tent city outside the walls. Begin building wooden barricades between the Dragon Gate and the Iron Gate today, so that we can keep the people contained and stop them from running off and spreading this fucker." Renly nodded, writing it down. "Ser Davos, you are from Fleabottom, you help him."

"Aye, Your Grace." Davos bowed his head.

"Stannis." Robert then said, before he ran his hand over his face in dismay. "Arrange with the Pyromancers the safe destruction of Fleabottom. The illness is still largely contained there, hopefully this can flush it out."

"Your Grace, what if it's the people and not the area." Olenna said calmly.

Robert shook his head. "I will not murder innocents. We keep it contained and we burn as much infected material as we can in the Fleabottom fire, but the people have to have the chance to get out, is that understood?"

Stannis nodded. "I shall speak with the Pyromancer's straight away."

"Good." Robert said, getting up quickly and feeling a slight head rush. "I want this all done as quickly as possible. Get the wooden boundaries built before we start to move people out of Fleabottom." He reached up to his head as it started to ache. "We need tents and facilities being created…" He coughed into his hand. "Being created whilst the boundaries are being set up to, so the people have shelter."

"Robert…" Renly said, his eyes wide and looking at the King's hand.

"What?" Robert said as his stomach began to feel queasy.

"Your hand…" The younger Baratheon said fearfully. Robert looked at him like he was ridiculous and brought his hand into eye view, noticing specs of blood.

"What…" He whispered, before he curled over the table and vomited. The occupants of the room all leapt to their feet to stay out of range, and Robert looked fearful when mixed in with vomit was a not insignificant amount of blood.

"Robert!" Stannis cried. "Bran, run and get as many healers as you can! Lock down the Throne Room! Nobody other than the Maester's enter!"

Robert dropped to the floor as pain racked his body. "What?" He asked again weakly, before he lost consciousness.

Bran's eyes were wide in fear, but he was kicked out of his stupor by Stannis. "Brandon!" Nodding, he ran at full pace out of the Small Council chambers, hoping that the King would be alright.

* * *

Dinner with Roderick Dustin was informative for Robb. He listened as the new Lord of the Barrowlands spoke about his childhood growing up in Barrow Hall, how he and the former Lord, Willam, had been close as children. He also spoke about the three wars that he fought in, including the battles where he fought under Robb's own command. The Stark would even admit that he was looking forward to leaving Barrowton under his command.

After the meal Robb went for a walk through the wooden castle. He was still waiting on Howland Reed to finish with his investigation on Lady Barbrey's body before he could leave for Winterfell, and so he decided to learn what he could about Barrow Hall. He spoke to a number of the staff members, some that were old enough to give him stories about his uncle Brandon from the time he had fostered in Barrow Hall.

Night fell quickly however, and Robb felt it was around the time to retire. He made his way through the castle once more towards the chambers that he had been given for his stay, and as he was going through a corridor he could hear voices in the distance.

"Barba, that's enough." An elderly voice was saying.

"But Mother! I swear it. Even you must have noticed how different he is acting…" A younger woman said. Barba, Robb guessed

"Barba." The elder woman said sternly. "He is the Lord now."

The younger woman scoffed. "Then his mummery has fooled even Lord Stark."

That made Robb scowl, and he walked around the corner towards the two women. They looked similar, although one had sharp red hair and the other was greying. The elder woman was shocked at seeing Robb and dropped some blankets that she was holding. "Lord Stark… my apologies My Lord…"

"Don't apologise." Robb said kindly, kneeling down to help the woman pick up the blankets. He handed them back to her. "But you can explain."

"My Lord?" The elder woman said, giving a sharp look to the younger.

"Don't play the fool." Robb said, growing impatient. "I heard enough. How have I been made a fool?"

The elder woman looked petrified, but the younger stood firm. "I was Lady Barbrey's handmaid, My Lord." Barba explained. "I spent a lot of time with her as she dressed and bathed and did all my other duties. I even came to Winterfell for your wedding, though I couldn't attend obviously." That surprised Robb. "The Lady and Lord Roderick never got on, My Lord. Especially after Lord Willam died."

"How so?" Robb asked. He racked his brains but admittedly couldn't find any instance of Roderick talking about his Ryswell predecessor.

"He called her whore often, My Lord." Barba said unabashed.

"Barba…" The elderly lady whispered harshly.

"No mother!" Barba exclaimed. "Lady Barbrey was my friend, even if I was just a servant." She turned to Robb. "He never forgave her for loving your Uncle, My Lord. And when she got the castle over his Father after Lord Willam's death… he grew angry and resentful. Lady Barbrey was constantly sorting his messes out and he would always belittle her."

"He's our Lord now." The mother pleaded.

Barba scoffed. "He shouldn't be." She turned to Robb again. "My Lord forgive my brashness, but days before My Lady died they were embroiled in a bitter argument. I was told that for a few years Lord Roderick had been trying to forcefully marry her to claim the castle, but My Lady refused, still in mourning."

Robb grimaced. That complicated things. "And you think he is acting right now."

"He is more polite than normal, My Lord." The mother said, and Robb knew that something was amiss now. "But that could be because he isn't at odds with Lady Barbrey anymore."

"Or because he's gotten away with murder!" Barba exclaimed, and Robb shushed them harshly.

"If this is true, and you aren't misleading me." Robb said looking at the younger woman pointedly. "Then it will be investigated. Lord Howland Reed is examining her body as we speak. If something appears unnatural then I shall act, you have my word. Now go about your business and stop talking about this, am I understood?"

The elder woman curtseyed. "Of course, My Lord. Thank you, My Lord." Barba copied the actions and the words too, before she was dragged away by the elder woman.

Robb sighed and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and index finger. He needed answers now before Roderick had a chance to fully settle into his new role. He turned around and stormed towards the Maester's chambers. He barged in to find the man sat down reading a book. "Lord Stark." The man stammered. "What can I do for you?"

"Tell me about Roderick Dustin." Robb demanded. "You've been at this castle for many years, you should know things."

The Maester chuckled. "Lady Dustin never trusted me much, My Lord. Only for medical matters. For the most part I was kept up here with nothing but my books and my potions. Not even the ravens were put under my watch." He didn't sound bitter, just tired.

"Humour me." Robb said calmly.

"I spent rarely any time with Lord Roderick." The Maester shrugged. "As a child he was a boisterous young man that wanted to be around Lord Willam every chance he could. As an adult? I couldn't say, it wasn't long after the Rebellion when Lady Dustin restricted my duties."

Robb grimaced as he went to look out of the window at the town below when the door opened, and Howland Reed entered. "Lord Robb."

"Lord Reed." Robb greeted. "Have you come to a conclusion?"

Howland nodded, though his eyes looked angry. "Nightshade."

Robb cursed under his breath. "Not Winter Fever?"

Howland shook his head. "Luwin was right, Winter Fever is highly contagious. No, this was murder, and was covered up."

Robb turned to the Maester with venom in his eyes. "You told me earlier you were called upon for medical matters. Does claiming a poisoning as Winter Fever fall under that term?"

The Maester gulped. "My Lord…"

"Answer me!" Robb shouted. "One of my Father's banners has been murdered, and I'm here being misled!"

"I was sworn to secrecy." The Maester fell to his knees before Robb. "If I didn't claim it was natural, I was to be dismembered, boiled alive and worse!"

"Who by?" Howland asked coldly.

"My Lord…" The Maester begged. "I can't."

Robb took a step forward and squatted down so that he was level with the Maester. "You've been lying to me. I don't like liars, Maester. Now tell me the truth and you can go back to the Citadel without being harmed, or I can execute you for being a part of this murder."

The Maester looked like he was about to cry when Robb stood up and reached towards his sword belt. "No! My Lord please, it… it was Lord Roderick! He came to be and robbed my stores, he threatened me! I had no choice!"

There it was. Robb relaxed his arm and clenched his teeth, nodding. "Thank you, Maester. Now pack your things and prepare to ride to White Harbour. I'll send word to Lord Wyman that a ship to Oldtown should be prepared."

The Maester slumped in defeat. "Of course, Lord Stark."

Robb didn't wait to see him start packing, and instead whipped around and walked briskly out of the room followed by Howland Reed. "What is your plan?" Howland asked.

"The laws of the land are clear." Robb answered quickly. "Murder is punishable by death. Lord Roderick will pay for his crimes."

* * *

Robb wasted no time in summoning the relevant people to the main hall to explain his decision. There was a small crowd gathered, with Lords Ryswell and Flint growing angry at the deception, the steward Callor breaking down into angry tears, as well as Edrick Dustin's mother, the sister of Lord Harwood Stout, explaining what would happen to the young boy. Lord Stout stayed calm throughout Robb's explanation, but when the Stark explained his final decision he was amongst Robb's firmest supporters.

"I shall fetch him, My Lord." Lord Harwood bowed. "He won't be overly suspicious this way."

Robb nodded. "Take half a dozen of my own men. Clap him in irons and bring him here." He instructed. Lord Harwood bowed once more and nodded, three men in the livery of House Stout also following him. The main hall was silent for what seemed like hours then, as the reality of the situation settled in for everyone.

"You can leave." Lady Alyssa Stout whispered to her son, Edrick. "You don't need to see this."

"Our Word Does Not Die." Edrick said firmly, the 12-year-old acting way older than his years in that moment. "Roderick disrespected our ancestors and our traditions by murdering Aunt Barbrey, Mother. I need to see this to show the people that I don't condone what he did."

"Well said." Lord Ryswell nodded. "The boy should be here to see justice done."

"He is a boy of 12, Lord Ryswell." Alyssa snapped.

Robb had to say something then. "He is also now the Lord of the Barrowlands, and it will be his job to see justice done in the region." He spoke firmly, before he sighed. "My Father started taking my brothers and I to witness justice done at the age of 10, Edrick is ready and willing." Alyssa Stout didn't look happy, but she bowed her head acceptingly and stood back, holding her hands on Edrick's shoulders. Robb left the seat and walked down to stand before the boy. "I'm going to give you the same advice I was told as a child. Don't look away. You'll understand it more if you don't look away."

"I won't, Lord Robb." Edrick said determinedly, and Robb decided he liked the boy. Nodding, he returned back to the high seat when raised voices could be heard from outside. The doors opened and in came Lord Stout, dragging an enraged Roderick Dustin behind him. The prisoner was thrown to his knees before Robb, who stood looking down at him, glaring.

"Lord Roderick." Robb said formally. "You are here on suspicion of the murder of Lady Barbrey Dustin."

"She died from a fever." Roderick scoffed.

Robb shook his head. "Your Maester confessed your threats, and Lord Howland here successfully deduced the poison."

Howland Reed stepped out from the corner of the room. Nightshade, My Lord. The body had started to rot, and it was difficult to decipher it is true, but the signs were there."

"Lies!" Roderick roared.

"You poisoned my daughter!" Rodrik Ryswell roared louder.

"ENOUGH!" Robb shouted, silencing the room. "The evidence is unmistakeable. For the crime of murder, your life is forfeit."

"My Lord!" Rodrik Ryswell exclaimed as Roderick Dustin processed the news. "Let me be the one to swing the sword!"

Robb balked. He had always been taught that he should be the one to do so if he sentenced somebody to death, but as he looked at the rage and hurt etched on Lord Ryswell's face he thought on Beron. "My Father always taught me that the man who passes the sentence should be the one to swing the sword, Lord Ryswell. But I also know that if any harm came to my son, I would not rest until I had avenged him. Take your vengeance." And with that Robb sat back down.

Rodrik Ryswell grinned and unsheathed his sword. A wooden block had been brought out by a Stark soldier and Roderick Dustin's neck was forced down onto it. "The gods will torment you for eternity." Lord Ryswell growled, and he swung ferociously, taking Roderick Dustin's head off with one swing. The Lord of the Rills said nothing, but he handed his sword to a man in the colours of House Ryswell and skulked away.

The room began to empty when he left, and after a couple of minutes there was only Robb, his guard, and Lord Edrick and his Mother. Robb noticed that Edrick hadn't stopped staring at the head. He walked down to them and said to Lady Alyssa. "Go and grab someone to clean this mess up, I will talk to Edrick." Alyssa looked unsure, but thankfully she nodded and walked towards the servant's quarters. Robb turned to the boy then. "You did well."

"It just seems odd, him being dead now." Edrick stated.

Robb nodded. "That will fade."

"And now I'm the Lord."

"You are." Robb nodded. "Lord Stout will be your regent for the time being until you turn 16, but you are Lord Dustin now. Listen to your uncle, but make sure that you listen to yourself as well."

"I will." Edrick nodded. "Thank you, Lord Robb."

"For what?" Robb asked.

Edrick looked down at the body and the growing puddle of blood. "For avenging my aunt."

Robb nodded, and tussled the boy's dark, curly hair before he pulled him away from the body and escorted him to his chambers. The finer details of the transition could be worked out the next day, he thought. For now Robb was just grateful that the issue had been seemingly sorted once and for all.

* * *

It had taken a week for the ships to return to Hardhome for the third time, and that week had been a steep learning experience for Ned. He had thrown himself into Wildling culture with the aid of Mance Rayder and the simple lifestyle almost appealed to Ned. After being sceptical of the rehabilitation in the first place, he now knew that he had changed his mind entirely.

The number of Wildlings gathered at Hardhome had made a few round trips necessary, and Ned had been adamant that he would travel with the last wave along with Mance Rayder as a show of union. The woman chief Karsi had led the first wave, followed by the large ginger, Tormund, that Ned had recognised from Torrhen's visions who had led the second wave. When the ships returned, Mance had moved quickly to shepherd the last remaining Wildling's onto the boats, whilst Ned had noticed a black, hooded figure atop the cliffs. Remembering Torrhen's last letter to him, Ned grinned.

"How do I get up there?" Ned asked a random Wildling, who explained the quickest was. Ned thanked him and began the trek, reaching the cliffside a little while later. As he walked towards the lone figure he looked down at the huge gathering of people still huddled around the shoreline waiting for the longboats to return, some 25,000 had been left for the last wave and the numbers still scared Ned slightly.

"I've hunted Wildling's since I can remember." The lone figure, now dismounted, said in a familiar voice. "Ever since I arrived at Castle Black."

"Mance Rayder calls you the Bane of the Free Folk." Ned smirked. "You have quite the reputation in these parts, Benjen."

Benjen Stark snorted in amusement. "I did my duty, rightly or wrongly." He turned to face Ned. "It's good to see you."

Ned moved to grip his younger brother in a tight embrace. "And you." He said softly. "Where have you been? We heard that you went missing, and then Torrhen mentioned that you showed him the path to Mance…"

"I'm dead, Ned." Benjen said abruptly, shocking the elder Stark. "For the most part anyway. The White Walker's killed me, but the Children brought me back as best they could."

Ned could feel his emotions rising, but thankfully he kept them under control. "I feared that this couldn't be prevented with you so far away."

Benjen shook his head. "I still have my part to play here, while you have your part to play in Winterfell."

"I just wish there was something I could do." Ned sighed. "It's just me now, Ben." He could feel his eyes watering. "Father's gone, Brandon's gone, Lya's gone, and now so are you."

Benjen nodded, his eyes lingering on the ground. "You have your family, and we are always with you, never forget that."

Ned nodded. "I sometimes wonder what happened for us to deserve such a fate, why I was picked as the one to lead. But then I look at Robb and Beron, I see Torrhen and Sansa bickering, or Arya acting exactly as Lya used to." He chuckled, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "All of the younger children too, and I then wonder how I've been so blessed."

"You're a good man, Ned." Benjen smiled. "Better than most in this world."

"I don't see that." Ned shrugged. "I'm just a man, doing his duty."

"You inspire people." Benjen told him. "You inspire your children, you inspire Jon. You inspire the entire North. We are safe under your leadership, I've known that ever since you returned from Dorne. That's why I felt like I could join the Watch when I did, I had faith in you."

Ned smiled, hugging his brother again. "I best go and get on the boats. Are you sure you can't come with me?"

Benjen shook his head. "There's magic in the Wall, I cannot go beyond it. I will do my part here though, I swear to you." Ned gulped, realising that this might be the last time he saw his brother, and Benjen spotted that. "I'll see you again, big brother." Benjen smirked.

Ned grinned, hugging Benjen one more time. "Send word whenever you can." He half ordered jovially, before the Lord of Winterfell turned away and began his descent down the cliffs, his pained thoughts focused solely on his siblings.

* * *

**This is the last Torrhen-lite chapter of the story. I know there's been a few of them recently but that's simply down to his travelling around the place quickly. This chapter still had a lot though! Whilst the title shows the main focus of the chapter, Ned at Hardhome and Bran in King's Landing have a lot of importance on the story going forwards.**

**With Robb though, as I mentioned in chapter 45 this idea of lesser Dustin's being scattered around is from CK2, and it was a good chance to give Robb more chances to show his leadership to the people of the North. The amount of characters involved certainly spiralled from the initial plan, but I'm happy with how it turned out.**

**I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Please let me know what you thought, reviews always help my motivation after all!**

**Next time: Torrhen arrives back in Winterfell, and the aftermath of King Robert collapsing is revealed…**

**Reviews:**

**RHatch89: They both sort of understand the new reality and why the war happened. Jaime still mourns for Cersei, but his time at the Wall will give him a new purpose.**

**C.E.W: Torrhen left after speaking with Jaime so he is fine, but that's not the end of trouble at Castle Black…**

**Guest (No Mercy): I literally answered this in a separate review in Chapter 46, so I'll simply quote what I said there. **

** \- **Bob: (It will be updated) When I write the next chapter. It will probably be the story I focus on after this one though. Don't worry, it will be completed eventually!

**Freakdogsflare: Alliser is still very powerful in Castle Black, but the influx of Westermen after that war certainly made Jaime's life easier.**

**yesboss21: The axe wielder was Victarion Greyjoy, as hinted at in the scene with Torrhen and Jaime atop the wall that you caught. With Arya and Jeyne, they're still children, and children fight. No Sansa isn't one that remembers, but her and Domeric have spent a lot of time together.**

**Guest (SMUT): What? If you're asking that I write some raunchy sex scene that has no relevance to the plot then you'll be disappointed. I always try and leave as much as possible to the readers imagination whenever there's a sex scene.**


	48. 163 Miles

**I'm really sorry I didn't manage to get a chapter out the last couple of weeks. With this current pandemic still going on it's taken more of a toll on me than I thought it would and I will admit, I'm drained and writing about a plague isn't helpful. **

**I've also been working on another fandom which is a massive change of pace for me, and not one I ever expected to get into as a viewer, let alone write about. I'll do my best to keep up with this story, but it's difficult.**

**All that being said, I do hope you enjoy this chapter. I should warn you quickly that in this chapter there is a brief section where I describe some underage intimacy by our standards, although as always with Game of Thrones, judging it by modern standards isn't helpful considering the feudal society these characters lived in. That being said, if you are uncomfortable at reading 15 year olds having sex, or a 15 year old being intimate with her 22 year old husband then move on past the last paragraph of both Torrhen and Mira's scene, as well as the last paragraph of Domeric and Sansa's scene. **

**I still own nothing but the OC's in this story, the recognisable things belong to either George R R Martin or HBO, although I am willing to take over the licenses if George doesn't release The Winds of Winter soon.**

* * *

The King's room was dark. The blinds had all been closed and scented candles set around the room, supposedly to ward off the illness from any visitors. An area around the bed had been cordoned off by ropes to give visitors a decent amount of space between the King and themselves, and only the healers were allowed within the cordoned section.

Stannis Baratheon had effectively taken over as the monarch, as was his duty as Hand of the King. The smallfolk of Fleabottom had all been moved out of the city and the pyromancers had finished preparing for the demolition of the slum, whilst inside the Red Keep the deaths had slowly begun to drop. That all didn't matter to the Hand of the King though when he saw his elder brother lying in his bed shirtless, with small black boils snaking down his arms. His face was red and sweaty, and his breathing was laboured.

"The Demon of the Trident." Robert said, his voice hoarse and pained. "Sat in his own shit, pissing out sweat." He laughed, before coughing heavily. "How are things?" He asked.

"Fleabottom is ready. The Pyromancers are just waiting on the command." Stannis began explaining. "Deaths are down on yesterdays numbers, but they are still in the thousands."

Robert coughed again. "This shouldn't be my legacy." He mumbled. "I should have died fighting these ice demons Ned is so scared of, not like this with half of my city."

"It's not that bad yet." Stannis insisted. He had meant the city numbers, but Robert mistook the statement.

"I'm done for, Stannis." Robert said calmly. "The Maester's know it, I know it. Here, there's some parchment on the desk. Write this down." He commanded. Stannis did as he was asked. "In the name of Robert, of the House Baratheon. First of… you know the damn titles, fill them out." Stannis did as he was asked. "I hereby command that the succession shall be as followed. Lord Stannis Baratheon of Dragonstone shall be my heir, to rule until his own death, upon which point he shall follow the laws of succession." Stannis grimaced knowing that the wording meant Shireen would effectively be disinherited from King's Landing, but he copied it down word for word. "Princess Ellyn Baratheon shall be placed under his care to be raised as fully befits her station, before marriage to a suitable match no sooner than her 16th nameday." Robert coughed once more. "Just keep her away from any damn Lannister." Stannis agreed there too and wrote down the official wording. "Her Grace Queen Walda shall remain at King's Landing to raise our daughter. I won't have her sent back to that cesspit of a castle to be twisted by her family."

"She will be treated fairly." Stannis promised, writing the wishes for the Queen too.

Robert nodded. "Use my seal, stamp it." He ordered, and Stannis did as he was asked. "Good, I can't tell you how to rule, you'll do a damn better job than I did I'm sure but see to it that those wishes are seen to."

Stannis nodded. "You weren't a bad King, Robert." He said weakly.

Robert laughed painfully. "Perhaps not in the last year, but before that? I was, and you can't say otherwise and not be a liar." Stannis went to argue, but he couldn't. "I did want to do better though, that bitch… her betrayal forced me to look at my failures." He sighed. "Just, swear to me that you'll look after Ellyn."

"She is family, Robert. She will be well looked after I swear it." Stannis nodded.

"And…" He coughed again. "Stay vigilant. The Targaryen girl and her dragons."

"What about her?" Stannis asked.

Robert grimaced as he moved to sit up slightly. "She'll use my death as an opportunity to cross the Narrow Sea, I am sure. Put an end to her, for me."

Stannis said nothing, and Robert groaned in pain again. "Stay strong, brother. I'll fetch the Maester." He said quietly.

Robert nodded. "And give the Pyromancers the go ahead. Save this city, Stannis. It's up to you now."

* * *

Once again the sight of Winterfell in the distance gave Torrhen a renewed burst of energy. After all the time he'd been away from the castle he grew up in he had missed the huge circular towers that stood proudly in the dusk light. Torrhen and his men galloped the last leg of the journey as quickly as they could, coming through the East Gate and stopping inside the main courtyard. Torrhen dismounted his garron and grinned as he looked around the place. His eyes stopped on three women, all holding young children and his grin widened into a toothy one. He saw his son point at him and exclaim "Papa!"

Torrhen briskly moved towards them and embraced his wife fiercely, kissing Mira on the forehead before he took hold of his son, Asher. "My, you've grown!" He exclaimed childishly, placing a kiss on the almost 2-year-old's cheek. Asher grimaced, but Torrhen didn't care as he hugged his wife once more.

"My Lady." He heard Domeric say formally.

Sansa had Sara in her arms, but she put her younger sister down beside the younger's Direwolf and curtseyed towards Domeric. "My Lord."

Torrhen rolled his eyes at the formality as he handed Asher back to Mira and went to hug his Mother. "Hello Mother."

"I'm so glad you're back." Cat whispered emotionally.

Torrhen pulled away and ruffled Beron Stark's hair. "Beron, you're getting big too!"

"I Lord!" Beron grinned widely and proudly, and Torrhen laughed.

"Where is Robb?" He asked. "I expected him to be here."

Catelyn shifted Beron so he was more comfortable in her arms. "Somewhere between Barrowton and here, the last we heard. There was an issue with Lady Dustin. He should be home soon."

Torrhen nodded, grimacing slightly at the thought of Barbrey Dustin and remembering her screams as he burnt down the wooden castle. Shaking his past horrors away however, he embraced both his twin and his youngest sister tightly to complete his reunions. He did look around for his other two younger siblings that should have been at the castle however, a gesture that Mira noticed.

"Rickon and Robin are studying with the Maester." The Forrester woman explained. "And Arya is…"

"Here." A voice came from behind most of them. Arya had a bow slung over her shoulders and was coming from the direction of the archery range. She rushed forwards to hug Torrhen by jumping up at him and wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. "I missed you." She whispered into his ear.

"And I you." Torrhen chuckled, setting her down. "And as much as I'd like to tell you the stories of my adventures here in the courtyard, we could all do with a warm meal."

"Of course." Catelyn smiled. "Come, we've had the cooks prepare something for you all."

Cat gestured for all of Torrhen's men to follow her into the Great Hall, and it was only a matter of moments before steaming plates of food were placed in front of Torrhen and his men. The Stark spoke as he ate, detailing everything from the journey, his talks with Mance to standing on top of the Wall. Arya was enthralled all throughout, whilst Cat just seemed concerned about his safety.

"It was fine, honestly." Torrhen told his Mother for the fourth time. "They only threatened to boil me alive three times I believe it was."

"Four." Domeric said with a grin from beside Sansa. "I believe Ygritte muttered it under her breath once she discovered you were married."

Torrhen snorted and placed his hand on Mira's. "She was an interesting woman, but has nothing on you, my love." He kissed Mira on the cheek, causing her to snort with laughter too.

"By the sounds of it you wouldn't be able to handle her." Mira rolled her eyes, causing the table to laugh lightly.

Torrhen held his hands up in surrender, agreeing with her. He finished his last strip of bacon before stretching out and yawning. I think I'll retire for the night." He stated to the table. "I presume with Robb away I'll be needed tomorrow?"

Cat nodded. "There are a few things that could require your attention Torrhen, as well as some reports from Cley Cerwyn."

Torrhen nodded, knowing that those reports from his own castellan were important to him as the Lord of the Causeway. "Very well, I'll meet you for breakfast." He stood up, picking up Asher as he went. "Are you coming, Mira?"

Mira smiled and nodded politely, rising to her feet as well. "Goodnight." She bid the rest of the occupants of the table. Torrhen moved away first, kissing Sansa on the head as he left the room and the wedded couple held hands as they walked towards their chambers, firstly putting Asher away in his own room.

Torrhen just flopped face first onto the bed when he entered his chambers, groaning happily at the comfort of his feather mattress. "I've missed you." He said to the bed. He felt the mattress shift as his wife sat down beside him, and Torrhen felt her undoing his armour gently.

"You've only missed the mattress?" She asked, causing him to chuckle. Once she had undone a few clasps on his back, Torrhen rolled over and stared up at her face.

"Possibly." He grinned. Mira rolled her eyes and leant down for a quick kiss, her hair tickling his face. She then continued undoing his armour, taking his fur coat off first and then dragging him so that Torrhen was sat upright so she could pull off his tarred black leather gambeson. Torrhen was tired and happily let his wife undress him, enjoying the sensations as she pulled off his boots, his undershirts, and his trousers, until before long he didn't have a stitch of clothing left on him. Mira then lay down on the bed beside him, placing a leg over Torrhen's and kissed him more intimately. Torrhen wrapped his arms around her and sighed contently into her lips. "I've missed you." He whispered.

Mira smirked against his lips. "I thought you might have." She whispered back. She pulled away from his lips and buried her face in his neck. "I missed you too Tor."

Torrhen shifted over slightly so he could stare at Mira's face and smiled softly, kissing her once more. The kiss quickly deepened, and Torrhen yanked her gently so that she was lying directly on top of him. Mira giggled into his mouth as the kiss deepened further. Torrhen's body had been quick to react to his wife, and he shifted them both so that he was now lying on top. The pair were breathing heavily now as they took a quick break from the heavy kissing, and Mira was quick to lift her dress up over her hips so that Torrhen could enter her for the first time in months.

* * *

A few hours after Torrhen and Mira had retired to their chambers, Sansa had done the same thing. She closed the door gently and moved to get into her night dress when movement on the bed audibly startled her. She quickly covered herself and turned, only to see Domeric waking up on her bed. "Dom. I didn't expect you." Sansa said, catching her breath.

Domeric rubbed his eyes and sat up, his loose-fitting white shirt almost falling off on one shoulder. "My apologies, My Lady. Your Mother directed me here when I retired." He explained.

Sansa sighed, knowing that she should have expected this. "We are married, it makes sense that you should stay here." She nodded, still standing by her dresser.

"I can sleep on the furniture if you'd prefer." Domeric suggested.

Sansa shook her head. "No, you've been away for a long time and you deserve a good night's rest." She took a few steps towards the bed. "Though, could you move over to the other side… I tend to sleep better there." She felt herself blushing as she admitted that.

Domeric nodded with a smile and shifted himself over, allowing Sansa to get under the covers awkwardly. They sat upright for a couple of minutes in silence, not knowing what to say to one another. Domeric suddenly had an idea, and reached over into his satchel, bringing out the drawing of his new banner. "I drew this while I was away." He told her. "I told Torrhen all about it, he told me I should show you, and perhaps you could make this into a reality." He handed her the parchment, and Sansa looked at Domeric's idea of a new sigil. "I don't want to glorify my families past. I want to be the change that can prove to the world that our version of House Bolton can be respected, rather than plainly feared."

Sansa smiled at him saying 'our House Bolton' and leaned in to give Domeric a quick kiss. "Our House, I like that." She nodded, before looking at the drawing again.

"He also suggested I use this as a surcoat and a personal sigil whilst my Father still lives." Domeric explained."

Sansa nodded, working out the designs in her head. "I'll use the navy material we use for our guard's gambesons." She started saying. "And in the centre I'll put the sword." She leaned over and dragged her finger down his chest, starting in between his pecs and pulling away when she reached the bottom of his rib cage. "There."

"That sounds perfect." Domeric smiled. "Thank you."

"It is no hassle." Sansa shrugged, placing the parchment on her bedside table. "I make all my dresses now, and I've even started to make Arya some clothes." She scoffed. "She's so difficult, they can't be too girly, but if I dress her like a boy then Mother will complain."

Domeric chuckled lightly at the rant. "Your hands are perfectly capable." He whispered to her.

Sansa grinned at the compliment and turned to hug him properly. "I've missed you." She said softly.

"And I you." Domeric replied, kissing her neck. They pulled apart and Sansa began to look nervous. "Is everything alright?"

Sansa nodded, too quickly. Domeric looked at her questioningly and she relented. "I just… I know we're married and now we are expected to… you know…"

"You're not ready?" Domeric asked.

Sansa shook her head. "I'm sorry, I really have missed you it's just…" She didn't know what to say.

"I am seven years your senior, Sansa." Domeric explained. "It's understandable that you would have some reservations."

"I'm supposed to grin and bear it." Sansa said unhappily. "And I've spoken to Mira and Wylla about it and they say that it can be fun, but it's slightly different for them, they're of an age with Torrhen and Robb. They learnt together." She sighed. "I don't know what to do, and I'm scared I'll disappoint."

Domeric cupped her chin and made her look at him. "You could never disappoint me, Sansa." He told her. "Yes, I am older. Yes, I have been with a couple of women before, but that means nothing." He kissed her cheek. "I never wanted to marry them, and while our wedding was arranged, I knew from when I met you that I wanted this." He kissed her other cheek. "My Father can hang if he expects me to push you into something you aren't comfortable with."

Sansa smiled softly. "You mean that?"

"I mean it." Domeric insisted, before an idea came into his head. "There is something I can do for you though if you'll allow me to. I swear it won't hurt and it can open you up to the idea that intimacy like this can be enjoyable." Sansa looked confused, and so Domeric kissed her gently, running his index finger down her side starting at her neck and going down her arm. At her fingers, his hand dropped to her leg, still covered by the dress. He ran his finger down the outside of her thigh and over her kneecap. He began gently pulling her dress up until he could feel her bare knee and he traced his finger over it, before running it softly up the inside of her thigh. Sansa tensed up and so Domeric stopped. "If you want me to stop, say." He whispered against her lips. Sansa just shook her head, and so Domeric continued moving upwards slower than before, until her thigh stopped, and he could feel short, coarse hair. He moved across lightly, slowly rubbing until her breath began to hitch and she shifted slightly against her will, allowing him more access. Domeric smirked against her lips and continued rubbing the right spot using just a single finger, easing his wife into their new relationship of intimacy.

* * *

The road to Meereen was long, but it was a breath-taking one. The scenery as the small army ventured up the coastal mountains was stunning, and even the relatively homesick Jon was enamoured by it.

"If you keep following that coastline." Dany's voice appeared from behind him. "You'll soon hit the Black Cliffs and Tolos. Further beyond that, and you get to Valyria."

Jon followed the shoreline across the water, but there wasn't any hint of the black cliffs from where they were standing. "Did you ever go?" Jon asked her. "To Valyria." He added at her confused look."

Dany nodded. "I flew over it once, after I lost my husband after the war." Their time together had led Dany to call his other self that, so that she could differentiate the two in her mind. "I wanted to find some sense of belonging after burning his body."

"What did you find?" Jon asked quietly, sensing that this was an emotional topic for her.

Dany stayed silent for a moment, before her icy answer put an end to the conversation. "Death." She sighed once more and turned back to the road. "Come on, we'll be falling behind."

Jon nodded and went to help her up onto her horse before mounting his own, and soon enough they were keeping pace with the majority of the Unsullied forces. They travelled for another hour until the marching stopped.

"What's going on?" Jon asked. He turned to Dany only to see her face turn pale and she had a look of dread. "What is it?"

"They can't, not again." Dany whispered. She kicked Silver into a gallop as they rode between the lines of Unsullied, and Jon struggled to catch her up.

At the front of the army, Ser Jorah and Jory had stopped, staring at a crucified little girl. Jon felt ill, and it took all his willpower to not vomit at the sight of her. "That's barbaric."

"That's just the first." Jory explained, turning to Daenerys. "There's likely 162 more, one for…"

"Every mile between here and the city." Dany finished for him, her eyes growing angry. Jon then heard the cries of the dragons, flying high above them. He put his hand on Dany's shoulder for comfort, happily noting when she put a hand up on top of his and squeezed. "Take her down and bury her." She ordered.

Ser Jorah nodded. "I'll have a squad of riders ride ahead and do the same, you don't need to see this, Khaleesi."

"I do." Dany corrected him. "You will do no such thing. We will march together, we shall bury the children together. Take their collars off and collect them. We shall return them to the Masters of Meereen with a vengeance."

"My Queen." Jorah bowed, as he put the orders into action.

Jon felt Dany squeeze his hand again, and he took her into his arms from behind. "We'll make them pay." He whispered to her.

"This happened last time." Dany said painfully, and Jon knew she was tearing up. "I hoped I never had to see this again." She took a deep breath and turned around in Jon's arms. "They will die, Jon. All of them."

Jon felt uneasy at the statement, but he brought her into his chest and soothed her, watching as the little girl was taken down from her bindings and swearing to his gods that somehow, these children would be avenged.

* * *

**No matter how many years Dany's mind has lived, the torture of slave children will always get her angry and upset her. Thankfully, she has Jon there with her though.**

**In King's Landing Robert looks like he's on his death bed. His version of the plague is the more deadly version that gets into the lungs, which is why his voice and breathing is struggling. The fact he's being proactive is a good sign of his improvement, however.**

**As for Winterfell, I wanted a nice set of reunions. Torrhen and Mira is always really fun to write, even if I know a fair number of readers aren't too happy with the pairing. The main bit for me however was the reunion between Domeric and Sansa, as the reality of becoming husband and wife starts to sink in now that Sansa has had her period. I hope I portrayed that well enough, being a guy obviously my experience is a lot different.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Next time we have what I have marked out as the start of another mini story arc, where Dany arrives at Meereen whilst Sam Tarly returns to the Wall…**

**Reviews:**

**Rolling Mist 13: Haha thank you! I enjoy writing the emotional scenes, the ones between Torrhen and Cat were some of my favourites in the Rises story because of that. I think that Robb wouldn't want to be thrust into Kingship, especially here when he knows what happened in the other world. Caution isn't always the worst thing in the world after all. I don't know if they'd have diagnose but I couldn't think of anything else so why not. The Night's Watch gives Jaime a whole different perspective on things I think and I'm liking exploring that. For the disease, if you mean Winter Fever that was just a cover story used by Roderick Dustin and the Maester, but if you mean the King's Landing plague, then it's certainly thinning out the King's Landing crowd.**

**Zyruss Villarreal: He definitely deserves to die in battle for sure, but so did Robb Stark and Jaime Lannister in the main show.**

**Svenion: Firstly rebuilding Moat Cailin is a hell of a task, it took a war with the Lannisters and a lot of their gold to do that properly in this story after all. Secondly, knowing that Ned was a capable ruler wasn't the main reason Benjen wanted to join the Night's Watch, it's the main reason he felt like he actually could go. I always felt that he knew about Lyanna's feelings for Rhaegar and felt guilty once she died and that's why he wanted to go.**

**sloksingh45: Here you are!**

**yesboss21: Honestly, it's listed as a sacred site on the CK2 mod, so I used that. The Giants and Mammoths are going south with them. I also have no idea what you mean by greenhorns. **


	49. Meereen

**I'll keep the intro relatively short this week, only saying that if you're out and about in public to please listen to those telling you to wear a mask. I'm seeing a lot of people, especially from the United States, on social media refusing to because it's impacting their freedom or something. If freedom is more important than not being the potential cause of somebody's death, then that freedom in my opinion is flawed. The United States is the largest reader base of all of my stories, and I really hope that you all are taking the necessary precautions. Short term discomfort is better than thousands upon thousands of people dying.**

**As for the story however, I should tell you that Daenerys' plan to take Meereen is based on what we see in both the show and the fourth episode of the Telltale Games story. As usual, Bold speech is Valyrian.**

**I own nothing unfortunately, all recognisable characters and locations are the property of George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

After leaving the North and Winterfell Jon Snow had seen many sights that had impressed him in Essos, although nothing compared to the grandness of Meereen. As they rode down to the gates the bastard of Winterfell couldn't take his eyes off of the Great Pyramid, reaching higher than any man-made structure that he had ever seen before. As the Unsullied began to form up in the plain beyond the gates, Jon followed the Targaryen woman beside Ser Jorah and Jory, trotting closer to the city. He tried to avert his gaze from the naked statues of the Harpy, but his thoughts betrayed him as he thought on Daenerys in the same state.

"Cheer up, Jon." Jory said quietly from his left. "We'll take this city too."

Jon shook his head. "That's not…" he trailed off, not wanting to share what he was thinking about. "I know we will." He looked up at the walls and saw people gathering, although from this distance nothing was distinguishable. He dismounted after Daenerys and walked up to stand beside her, the pair standing in silence as they waited for the Meereenese response to their actions.

The gates began to open and Jon tensed up, his hand going straight to his sword. "Calm, Jon Snow." Dany said softly. "It will be a single rider. Their champion." Jon watched as a lone rider did indeed gallop out of the city, before he stopped towards the cliffside and dismounted, shouting something in a broken Valyrian that Jon couldn't quite place. He started unfastening parts of his armour, and Jon turned to Dany in disgust. She just had a look of amusement on her face as the Meereen champion whipped out his cock and began to piss on the ground.

Jon felt outraged. "He disrespects you." He snarled, his hand firmer on his sword.

"He entertains me." Dany said smugly. "If he expects me to cower at the sight of a man's cock, he doesn't know the Dothraki very well." She noticed Missandei coming forward to translate but stopped her. "I know what he is saying, he won't be speaking for much longer."

"Let me be your champion." Jon whispered down to her, his voice laced with anger.

Dany shook her head calmly. "You would best him, I do not doubt it. But I want this done quickly, and that requires less honour than you, Jon." She told him softly before calling out. "Daario."

The sellsword stepped forwards and bowed. "My Queen."

Dany looked back at the Meereenese champion, who had finished his business and was lacing back up. "Make it quick."

Daario grinned, stepping away from their army and casually looked towards the now mounted again Meereenese champion. "He's just standing there." Jon exclaimed.

"He is." Dany just nodded.

"He'll get himself killed!" Jon added.

Dany placed a hand on Jon's arm. "Trust me." Was all she said. Jon nodded and released his sword hilt, watching as the two champions faced off. The Meereenese warrior began to gallop towards Daario, who was still just standing there. The Tyroshi turned and winked at Dany, causing Jon to grow even angrier. As he galloped closer, the Meereenese champion lowered his lance, aiming directly for Daario's neck. The Tyroshi wasn't fazed however, and he unsheathed his dagger, kissing the hilt before throwing it directly into the horse's eye. The Meereenese champion fell from the horse to fall directly at Daario's feet in a plume of dust, only to be swiftly beheaded by Daario Naharis' arakh.

Then a number of things happened quickly. The citizens of Meereen began to make unhappy noises from the tops of the walls and a barrage of arrows was fired, landing in between Daario and the city. Without a word of warning, Daario unlaced his trousers and returned the favour to the city of Meereen, pissing on the arrows.

Jon couldn't contain a snort of laughter then, and Dany was also smirking. "Time for a speech." She said quietly. "See that the catapults are ready." Jon bowed his head and walked towards the front of the Unsullied formation, listening in as Daenerys gave a speech to the slaves of Meereen. He waited beside the middle siege engine until Dany had finished her speech and commanded "**Forward**!" And he helped push the catapult within range of the city. He grabbed the rope that would allow him to fire the catapult, and soon enough Dany gave the order. "**Fire**!"

He pulled, and the cylindrical wooden barrel flew over the city walls, smashing on the stone buildings within the city, showering the people inside with the gathered slave collars from every single slave that they had freed on their journey. It was a powerful statement, and Jon hoped that inside the city, the rage that the slaves had towards their masters would come out and make their jobs easier.

* * *

Like Torrhen, the sight of Winterfell in the distance always filled Ned Stark with an indescribable sense of ease, and riding through the gates to a large reception actually put a smile on his lips. He greeted each of his children and grandchildren in turn, before hugging his wife tightly and moving into the castle. After a quick meal, he brought both Robb and Torrhen up to his solar, half expecting Cat to follow them. Instead of his wife however, it was Wylla that joined them and started describing what had happened in all of their absence.

"Our stores are filling up nicely." She explained. "At this rate we have enough food for the entire North for a year here in the castle."

Ned nodded. "Very good. What of trade with Essos, have we heard anything?"

Robb shifted uncomfortably. "News from King's Landing has halted in the last month, Lord Howland had heard rumours of a plague, but it's only rumours."

"Bran?" Ned asked quickly. Torrhen shrugged.

"No news." Torrhen answered. "We've heard nothing."

Ned sighed and leant back into his chair. "Well, the Wildlings have taken up residence in the Gift. Mance Rayder has even encouraged them to aide in building outposts to protect our Northern borders, and the giants have been talked into helping with the build of Rickon's future castle."

Robb and Wylla looked at each other in wonder. "Giants? They are real?"

Ned smirked. "Eastwatch were not too happy when they had to open the gates for them and the mammoths, but they are a wonderous site."

"And a pain in the arse to fight." Torrhen muttered, remembering the ease at which the undead giants had swatted away the barricades and mounted knights in his previous life.

"They're on our side." Ned said calmly. Torrhen nodded knowingly, but the memory of the battle he died in still haunted him. "Lord Umber wasn't too happy."

Robb snorted. "Is he ever?" He joked.

Ned chuckled. "He will accept it so long as the Wildling's stick to the borders, but I'm of a mind to send a couple of hundred men to Last Hearth as an added precaution." Torrhen didn't see an issue with that, and neither did Robb. Ned scribbled something down and handed it to Wylla. "Take this to Ser Rodrik and have him gather the men." He instructed. Wylla curtseyed and left the solar, leaving only the Stark males in the room. "Now, tell me about Lady Barbrey."

Robb grimaced. "If it weren't for Maester Luwin then I'd have likely given a murderer the Lordship of the Barrowlands. I'm sorry, Father."

Ned shook his head and stood up, moving to grip Robb on the shoulder. "You made your decision based on the available knowledge, but thankfully you were wise enough to be open to other possibilities by taking Howland. You may have rushed in by proclaiming Roderick Dustin as the Lord, but you came to the right decision in the end and justice was had."

"And Lord Ryswell seems to love you now." Torrhen smirked at his brother.

"It was Rodrik that swung the sword?" Ned asked. "All that was in the raven to Last Hearth was that Barbrey Dustin had been murdered by her husband's cousin, and that the new Lord of Barrowton was a boy."

Robb hung his head. "I passed the sentence, but it was Rodrik Ryswell who's daughter had been murdered. It should have been me to swing the sword, but I thought on what would happen if Beron had been killed, and I know I would want to end the killer's life myself."

Ned nodded. "And in doing so you have allied us with a man who could have been problematic, who had proven that in different circumstances he is willing to betray House Stark. You did well." Robb looked happier at that statement. "Have I missed anything else whilst I have been away?"

Torrhen's face fell solemn. "The reason Mother isn't here, why she hasn't been very active recently…"

"Grandfather passed." Robb finished for Torrhen. "The news hit her hard."

Ned fell silent in shock. His mind flew back to his first true meeting with the elderly Lord Tully, back when Brandon and his Father had died, and they needed allies. "I'm very sorry to hear that." Ned said quietly. "He was a fine man."

"She feels guilty." Torrhen explained. "That she never got to see him again."

Ned nodded knowingly. "Very well. We can discuss the future another time boys, I need to see your Mother."

Torrhen and Robb looked at one another before bowing quickly and leaving the room, leaving Ned alone to ponder what he was going to say to Cat. It took him half an hour before he left his solar and made his way to her chambers, where Cat was sat by the fire on her own, staring into it.

"Cat." He said quietly, not wanting to startle her. She turned to face him, her face red from crying and the sight broke Ned's heart. He walked towards her and knelt before the chair, enveloping her in his arms. "I am so sorry."

"I promised I would go and see him." She sobbed into his shoulders, grasping his back, and pulling him in for comfort. "I was too late."

Ned stroked her hair, words almost escaping him. "He knew how much you cared, never forget that." He whispered.

"First Lysa, now Father." Cat said shakily. "Why Ned?"

Ned didn't know. "The Gods work in mysterious ways my love." He told her." He pulled away by a few inches and held her head in both hands. "You should go to Riverrun."

Cat sniffed and shook her head. "You just got back…"

"And though I have missed you dreadfully, you were a Tully long before you were a Stark." Ned told her kindly. "You should be with your brother and your uncle. I will still be here when you get back."

"I'm still with child…" She whispered, her hand coming to her belly. She still wasn't showing.

Ned kissed her forehead. "And soon it will be too dangerous to travel. Take Sara, take Robb, Wylla and Beron too. Go and spend time at your childhood castle and mourn your Father there."

Cat nodded, sniffing again. "I'll take Robin and Rickon too." She said hoarsely. "Robin should see his mother's childhood home."

Ned couldn't disagree. "It may be good for him to experience another region closer to his home." He surmised. He kissed her again on the forehead. "I must go and speak to some people, can I fetch you anything?"

Cat shook her head. "Just come to me tonight. I need to sleep with you close to me." She whispered.

Ned smiled and kissed her lips softly. "As My Lady commands." He whispered before standing up. He gave her one last look before he left the room, determined to see that the castle was running smoothly as quickly as he could so he could be back as soon as possible for his mourning wife.

* * *

The destruction of Fleabottom hadn't completely eradicated new cases of the plague spreading through the city, but Stannis was quietly happy about the sheer drop in deaths occurring daily. Work was already starting on turning the rubble of Fleabottom into a self-sustaining and healthy part of the city, with foundations already being laid down for the new buildings.

Inside the Red Keep was also a more positive place. King Robert was still clinging on to life and the healers were beginning to feel a little more confident at the monarch perhaps surviving. Stannis didn't want to hope however, and so another one of his roles was to ensure the succession happened smoothly. This of course wasn't well received by Renly, who came into his solar one day in a rage.

"He's not dying!" Renly exclaimed, slamming the door behind him.

Stannis barely looked up at his younger brother and continued his writing. "Renly, come in." He said dryly.

"You're paving your way to the Iron Throne whilst Robert is still here." The younger man spat. "It's disgusting!"

Stannis placed the quill down sharply. "I am doing my duty, fulfilling a wish given to me by our brother." He explained calmly, though his tone had a bite to it. "He is hanging on, Renly, he's not recovering."

"The Maesters say…"

"The Maester's say they are hopeful." Stannis interrupted. "I was hopeful once before too, I was hopeful that from the wreck of the _Windproud_ our parents would swim to shore, alive." He sighed. "Instead we got a half mad fool."

"You're acting like he's dead already." Renly scowled.

Stannis shook his head. "I am simply preparing for the worst. As should you."

"No." Renly snapped quickly, before he choked out a sob and sat himself down. "He can't die…"

Stannis poured out a drink for his brother, who took it gratefully. "I want nothing more than a recovery." He told Renly. "I have no wish to be King, but Robert has no trueborn sons."

"And neither do we." Renly sighed, his anger dissipating. "I don't know if I ever will."

Stannis and Renly had never spoken about the youngers preference when it came to bed mates before, and Stannis began to feel slightly uncomfortable. "It is a process, you don't have to enjoy it." Stannis mumbled.

Renly snorted in amusement. "It's an enjoyable process when you're with the right person."

Stannis didn't know what to say to that, having only been with his wife intimately, and even then he hadn't shared her bed in years. After a moment of silence, he said. "You need to think of something, Renly. Look at our family. Robert is dying and his only trueborn child is a girl. Selyse has tried and failed to give me a son on multiple occasions. You are newly married, near enough, with a young and fertile bride."

"That I can't bring myself to share her bed." Renly sighed. "She's tried, she's suggested numerous things but I just…" He sighed again. "She's not…"

"She isn't her brother." Stannis finished for him. Renly's eyes were wide and Stannis almost smirked. "I know your feelings for Lord Tyrell, Renly. But even he has a son now."

Renly's eyes darkened. "I know that."

"I know the pressure you must feel." Stannis insisted. "We are the last of the Baratheon's, Renly. I doubt I will have another child, and Shireen…" He felt a lump in his throat. "I don't know if the greyscale will affect her ability to have a child or not."

"Don't think like that." Renly insisted.

"I have to." Stannis countered. "Brandon is a good boy and if all goes well then they can have numerous black-haired babes, but I have to be realistic, we don't know what the illness has done to Shireen." He sighed. "When this is over I want you to go back to Storm's End. Spend time with your wife, listen to her ideas and try to get her with child."

Renly looked amused. "You're commanding me to sleep with my wife?" He raised an eye.

"I am." Stannis said.

"Who are you and what have you done with my sour, boring older brother?" Renly asked with a smirk.

Stannis cleared his throat and gathered his papers, not wanting to dignify that with a response. "Will that be all?" He asked.

Renly grinned widely, a completely different set of emotions to the ones he had when he entered the room. "I suppose it is. Until the next meeting, Lord Hand." He bowed over exaggeratingly before he swaggered out of the room, leaving Stannis alone to ponder on the future of their House.

* * *

The plan to liberate Meereen was an elaborate one. While Grey Worm and a number of Unsullied were meeting with an underground resistance to try and encourage a slave revolt, the others were to infiltrate the city and take out key Masters. Jon had been a part of that and he had been tasked with taking the Great Pyramid with the bulk of Dany's forces, and by sunrise he was coated in blood and waiting for Daenerys to join him on a balcony overlooking thousands of gathered slaves having successfully planted their banner atop the Harpy. As Dany rose up the steps to the gathered crowd all shouting "Mhysa!" at her, she stopped just before Jon and he saw that she looked relieved to see him.

"Meereen is yours, Your Grace." Jon said, kissing her hand.

Dany smiled at him. "No, Aegon." She whispered. "It's ours." She offered him her hand, and together they walked towards the edge of the balcony so that Dany could speak to the gathered crowds. Gathered away from the now freed slaves were the Masters, kept isolated by the spears of the Unsullied. Dany looked down at them in disgust. She held up her hand waiting for silence, and when it fell she began to speak. "**Your world of yesterday is gone. Slavery has been eradicated from the Bay of Dragons and shall never return. You are all equals now, and you shall act like it. The former Masters tried to dissuade me from taking this city by murdering 163 children, and I had thought to return the favour to 163 of them. But I am a merciful Queen. The masters were raised in a world that rewarded slavery and it is all that they have known, so today I give you a choice. Renounce your old world and join my new one. Work together with all the free men and women to grow Meereen into a great and prosperous city without prejudice or discrimination and we shall rise to greatness together. Or don't, and I will grant you all a swift death.**" She explained with a fierceness to her voice. "**The choice is yours.**"

She walked away then, and Jon followed her along with her other guards all the way up to the apex of the Great Pyramid, where Daenerys' own chambers were to be. They arrived as the chambers were being cleaned of blood from the night before, and Dany immediately went out to the balcony to look over the city, watching as the three dragons flew around.

"The House of Pahl is now extinct." Jon explained. "They resided here, the champion was a lesser cousin and his father commanded the City Watch before his death last night too."

"I didn't know that before." She noted. "I didn't know many things before, and it cost me greatly."

Jon had heard all about Dany's rule of Meereen. "We can change that, we can be better together."

Dany turned towards Jon and leaned up to kiss him softly. "We will be better together." She affirmed. "I just hope that the Masters will bend willingly."

"They will." Jon told her confidently. "They value their lives more than anything, and you gave them the choice. If there are some that do not bend easily, then they will be the message that you do not tolerate slavery."

Dany nodded, smiling up at Jon. "We must keep our eyes on Astapor and Yunkai too, I will not suffer any more rebellions. Slavery is gone from the world, and the people must know that."

"And they shall." A songful voice sounded from behind them both. Jon immediately withdrew his sword and turned to face the intruder, a hooded man.

"Who are you?" Jon demanded to know. "How did you get past the guards?"

The man giggled. "A structure this size always has its secrets, Jon Snow. Or should I say, Aegon Targaryen."

Jon began to take a step forwards. "How do you know that name…" He snarled.

"I know many things." The man said. "Lucky for you, I'm simply here to serve you both."

"Show yourself." Dany demanded. The man bowed his hidden head and pulled off his hood, and Dany gasped. "Varys?"

"In the flesh, My Queen." The famed eunuch said, bending the knee towards her. "I have travelled far following the tales of your travels in order to serve you."

Jon leaned into Dany. "He serves King Robert." He whispered.

Dany shook her head. "He did what he had to in order to survive, but he's always been loyal to our House." She took a step towards the bald eunuch. "Rise, Varys. We have much to discuss it seems."

* * *

**Dany of course has already been through the taking of Meereen, so the champion doesn't insult her this time, instead amusing her. She's also not overly turned on by Daario's display as she's too into Jon by this point. Also in Meereen, Varys makes his first appearance since betraying Jon Arryn! He's been suspiciously absent for over 20 chapters and I'll go into what he's been doing next chapter.**

**In Winterfell Ned is caught up on current events and comforts Cat. Their relationship is a really nice one to write, especially the moments like this chapter.**

**Finally in King's Landing, Stannis yet again has to be the strong one. The way I see it is that Renly was in denial about the dangers of Robert's illness because he's grown up disliking Stannis and admiring Robert. I also wanted to show the side of Renly we barely saw in the show, in terms of his feelings towards sleeping with Margaery, in a way that could improve the bond that Renly and Stannis share.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. The next one is a big one, which is fitting for Chapter 50, and will be the last before a relatively large time jump.**

**Reviews:**

**yesboss21: There are 100,000 Wildlings in the Gift now, so the Wall should be well manned. And they don't have a representative on the Wall, but they are in the Gift in numbers and vastly overmatch the Night's Watch, but they won't attack because Mance values the treaty that he and Ned have agreed. **

**Rolling Mist 13: You can't catch me out that easily haha! But rest assured there is still plenty of character death to come. This may be a 'Stark fix it' story, but the Starks are only one family, and they can't save everybody.**


	50. First of His Name

**Chapter 50. I'm so happy to get to this point as it's really soon that the story really begins to race towards the climax. I'm excited to get there, I just need the motivation to actually sit down and write! I'm sorry again for the late uploads. I was doing so well with a schedule but in the last few weeks life has caught up with me a lot. I'll try and be more regular, but we'll just have to see.**

**I hope you all enjoy the chapter. I own nothing but any OC's, actual characters and locations belong to George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

The table in Dany and Jon's Meereen chambers had a slightly tense atmosphere. Varys sat at one end, calm and collected as he took a sip of his wine, staring between the two Targaryen's. Dany looked relatively calm on the outside, but Jon could see distrust and doubt in her eyes. Jon meanwhile was just waiting for an excuse to whip his blade out and sever the bald eunuch's head.

"We haven't heard much of Westeros since I left Vaes Dothrak." Dany admitted. "Tell me, what was the outcome of the war?"

That peaked Jon's interest, as he silently prayed his family were well. Varys gulped some more wine and smiled too sweetly. "The war was a resounding victory for King Robert, Your Grace. Tywin and Cersei Lannister are dead, along with Joffrey Waters, Ser Kevan, and a number of lesser Lannisters. House Greyjoy is also all but extinct, having been eradicated after another pointless rebellion. I believe only Victarion and Theon Greyjoy remain, with the former at the Wall and the latter one handed after an incident inside Winterfell."

"And what of Lord Stark?" Jon asked before he could stop himself.

Varys grinned knowingly. "Lord Stark is well. As are all of your cousins. Robb was instrumental in the defence of the North from the Ironborn and Torrhen was a key reason that Casterly Rock fell, now known as the Butcher of the Rock after an apparent feral display."

"Torrhen, feral?" Dany asked, surprised. Varys raised an eyebrow at the Targaryen girl apparently knowing a Stark, but Dany scoffed. "Come Varys, I know you know of this display of magic that has coursed across the world."

Varys giggled. "I have heard some odd rumours it is true. Tales of another world, another set of wars."

"I know you distrust magic." Dany explained. "But this is a good thing for the realm."

"It is more united now than I have ever known it." Varys admitted. "Though there are still some that yearn for House Targaryen."

Dany grimaced, standing up and walking to a window. "They will have to yearn for longer. I have no interest in a war of conquest, and neither does Aegon." Varys looked at Jon questioningly, and Jon just stared back icily. "What we desire, is peace with House Baratheon so that we can join together and face the oncoming threat."

"I must say, I am surprised." Varys explained. "Your actions here have given you quite the reputation as a conqueror."

"A necessary reputation." Jon added coldly. "It shows that we are strong, that we will not bend easily, and we will not be easy to assassinate if the Usurper so desires."

Varys stared at Jon. "Any assassination attempt from King Robert was doomed to fail from the start, thanks to me." He explained. "I sat on his cancels, I fed him truths and half truths enough to keep my life, but I always served House Targaryen."

"What made you travel all this way?" Daenerys asked. "Last time it was…"

"I don't want to know about this past life, if Your Grace can spare me." Varys interrupted. "I left because the tides were changing. Jon Arryn made rash moves and was going to imprison and maybe kill children. I separated House Lannister from King's Landing and ensured that Casterly Rock stood alone, but after that I knew King Robert would start asking why I didn't mention the children's true parentage and I had to disappear. I travelled to Pentos to stay with our good friend Illyrio and I heard a peculiar tale of a strange Northman, resentful of his father that had stolen a rather royal harp to give to the Khaleesi." Varys grinned at Jon. "The harp was a giveaway to your true parentage Aegon, and I knew then I needed to keep an eye on the pair of you."

"And so you followed us here, I presume?" Dany asked.

Varys shook his head. "I stayed in Pentos, listening to the whispers from east and west. I learned all about Eddard Stark's betrayal and lies about a bastard son, and I even found out about a secret marriage, legitimising the true heir to the Iron Throne. Then when you started liberating Slavers Bay I knew I had to come and meet the pair of you, to offer my service however I can."

"And you are welcome here, Varys." Dany said firmly. "So long as you agree with our stance. Dark winds are coming, and the entire realm must be united. No plots, no secrets that can divide us."

"As you wish." Varys bowed. "There are some things from Westeros that might be important for you to know, however. Robb and Torrhen Stark are both fathers now."

Jon grinned at that. "I can't imagine either with a child." He admitted.

"Sansa Stark is married to a Bolton." Varys explained. Jon knew it was coming, but he still didn't like the thought of Sansa in the Dreadfort. "And King Robert was last known to be fighting off a plague in King's Landing. Illyrio tells me it is quite terminal."

That was the biggest news of it all. "The Usurper is dying?" Dany asked disbelievingly.

"If not already deceased." Varys answered.

Dany turned to Jon. "We could send an envoy home." She whispered. "If Stannis would treat with us…"

"We don't know the climate." Jon countered. "We should wait for word from my family."

Dany looked hesitant but nodded. "You are right, of course. The dragons aren't big enough and our army cannot conquer a continent."

"What you are doing here, freeing slaves and changing the area for the better, that is a worthwhile mission." Varys commented. "My advice, if you would hear it, is to keep doing what you are doing. Let the dragons grow, let your reputation as a fair and just leader grow. Sooner or later you shall step on western shores, but for now you are both needed here."

* * *

Bran Stark watched on from a Red Keep balcony as the delegation of Maesters paraded out of the city. Three days earlier had been a full week without any deaths, and for the most part the plague seemed to have ran its course. The Maesters had since confirmed it and barring a handful that still were suffering including the King, they had declared the city safe to reopen its gates and ports.

Of course, the jovial atmosphere from some reaches of the city wasn't spread everywhere. The residents from Fleabottom were still homeless as the entire area was in the process of being rebuilt in a more sanitary way. Bran had lost count of the number of times new architects and designers had been in meetings with Stannis to throw ideas around on how to house so many people in such a small space whilst still having a sanitary sewer system. It bored Bran if he was honest, and so for the most part he zoned out unless he was required to have an input or fetch the drinks.

Everything changed from that moment all the Maester's bar one, the new Grand Maester Yandel, left the city, however. The 12-year-old Stark moved from the balcony to his chambers as he would any other day, looking to get a quick meal in before another round of meetings after noon. As he neared his chambers however, a man dressed in Baratheon livery came rushing towards him.

"Brandon!" He said breathlessly. "You are needed in the Throne Room. Lord Stannis asked for you to go there urgently."

Bran was a bit surprised at the change in structure to his day, but he thanked the guard and went to collect Summer from his room before rushing down to the Throne Room. Inside he saw both Stannis and Renly staring at the Iron Throne. Nervous, he stroked the back of Summer's neck as he walked closer to the Baratheon brothers. "Lord Stannis, Lord Renly. You called for me?"

They both turned. Bran could see that Renly was red in the eyes and feared the worst. Stannis looked stern as usual. "Brandon, good you are here."

"Is everything alright?" Bran asked.

Renly scoffed, only to receive a glare from his elder brother. "He doesn't know." Stannis said firmly, before turning to Bran. "The King is dead."

Bran gasped as thoughts began swirling in his mind. His Father would be gutted he knew, but that also meant that Stannis was now King. He immediately got to one knee. "Your Grace."

"Stand, please." Stannis insisted. "The bells haven't rung yet, we are allowing the Dowager Queen to have a moment with the Princess before we announce it, but I wanted you here as we need to discuss a few things."

"Discuss things… with me?" Bran asked.

Stannis nodded. "Soon we will travel to Storm's End in order to bury my brother where he wished to be buried. Queen Selyse and Princess Shireen will join us there before travelling back with us to King's Landing." Bran gulped, he hadn't spoken with Shireen since the city was put into lockdown. "You will have less duties as I want you to sit with me and learn how to rule. As of right now, you are the Lord of Dragonstone."

Bran knew that it made sense, Stannis couldn't be the lord of two places after all, but the sudden weight of responsibility was almost crushing. "I'll learn everything I possibly can, Your Grace."

Stannis nodded. "You are a fine squire, Brandon. My daughter will be well with you as her husband." He turned back to the Iron Throne. "I was never meant for this. I was to simply aide my brother in Storm's End. Then I became Lord of Dragonstone because we won the rebellion, and now I am a King."

"You will be a fine King, Your Grace." Bran insisted.

Stannis didn't comment on that. "I want you to write to your Father. The news will be better coming from you. I can only imagine what he will feel after your Grandfather's death recently." Bran had never met his Grandfather and when he had heard the news it had barely registered. He had felt for his Mother though and sent a raven as soon as they were physically able to. "We will also have to prepare for a coronation. Your Father may have too much to do in the North, but I would like another representative of House Stark to be there, if you can arrange that."

"I will." Bran bowed his head.

"You should sit on the Throne." Renly told him. "Get used to it before…" He trailed off, unable to speak more.

Stannis nodded, and he patted Bran on the shoulder before he rose up the steps and placed a palm on one of the sword hilts on the arm rest of the Iron Throne. He gripped it firmer and turned, sitting down on the seat of King's. Bran knew he should be sad that the King was dead, but as he looked over at his mentor becoming King Stannis, the First of his Name, he could only feel a sense of pride.

* * *

The raven came to Winterfell around midday two days later, and the news hit Ned hard. He and Cat effectively locked themselves in Ned's solar so that he could mourn in peace and reminisce with his wife about all of their escapades as children right up until the last moment they saw one another.

As Ned and Cat mourned in his solar, Torrhen was with Domeric Bolton in the library pouring over some of the older tomes that the 8,000-year-old castle had collected, looking for any more information that could be helpful for the future fight. Most of them were faded and crumbling, but there were still a couple of books that were still readable.

They were interrupted when another set of footsteps entered the room. Torrhen looked up to see his twin first. "Sansa." He greeted fondly.

"Hello boys." She replied brightly. She ruffled Torrhen's hair and kissed Domeric on the cheek as she sat down beside him, opposite Torrhen. "Have you found anything."

Torrhen groaned and shoved his tome away. "Most of it is illegible, the other parts are the old tongue. I miss Valyrian."

Domeric chuckled, turning to Sansa. "The only thing I can think of is taking these to the Wildlings, some of them speak the old tongue still."

"That will have to wait." Sansa explained. "Father just got the news, King Robert is dead."

Torrhen stared at his sister in shock, silently closing the book and leaning on his elbows for support. "How is he?" He asked solemnly.

Sansa shrugged. "He and Mother are in his solar, I was on my way to find you when I was told." She placed a thick, brown leather doublet on the desk. In the middle of the chest was an indent of a longsword facing downwards, exactly like Domeric's drawn sigil. I finished this for you, it's the toughest thing I've ever made." She told them both. Domeric stood up, smiling as much as he could after the news and picked it up, holding it against his chest.

"What do you think?" Dom asked.

"It's better than the flayed man." Torrhen noted, and Sansa agreed.

"I also had this done." Sansa said, placing a navy cloth on the table. She began unfolding it and Torrhen noticed it was a tournament style standard with Domeric's new sigil on. The white sword truly stood out with its blood red outline, and the navy field was the exact same as the current House Bolton sigil.

Domeric traced his fingers over the material. "This is…" He was speechless. "Thank you."

"You can use it for tournaments for now I thought, that's why I made it this shape first." Sansa explained.

"I love it." Domeric told her, kissing her softly on the lips. "Thank you."

Torrhen could tell that he was in the way slightly, and so he stood up and piled the books together. "I'll leave you alone." He told them both. "If you get carried away… don't get caught by Septon Chayle." Domeric snorted in laughter whilst Sansa blushed a deep red, and Torrhen didn't wait for a response before he walked over to put the books back, leaving the wedded couple to show their appreciation for one another alone.

After the first couple of council meetings, Jon had had enough. He couldn't handle the constant arguments between the chosen freed slaves and the former Masters that had been elected onto the council and so he left the governance to Dany, while he helped Ser Jorah with training a standing army that would be ready to move out to any of the liberated cities in the Bay of Dragons. Apparently that is what it had been like with his other self, the one he constantly felt like he had to compare himself to in order to keep Dany's affections.

* * *

Now that they had settled, Jon found himself missing his old routine at Winterfell. Hearing about the war, with both Robb and Torrhen's exploits inevitably being praised throughout the North, made Jon miss his old life. He wanted to spar with Robb, to ride with Arya, to teach little Rickon how to fight. Sighing, he looked down from the apex balcony of the Great Pyramid at the city of Meereen. He was a foreigner, a stranger to all of these people, yet he was expected to help rule them.

Rhaegal must have sensed his uneasiness, and the green and bronze dragon flew out of the pyramid to join him, perching on Jon's shoulder silently. Jon smirked briefly and stroked Rhaegal's chin with his fingers. The dragon was the size of some of the dogs in Winterfell now and was getting slightly too heavy to sit on Jon's shoulders, but for the moment he didn't care. Rhaegal was the only constant companion Jon had now, with Ghost roaming somewhere outside the city, having not wanted to be locked up inside the pyramid.

"It's a good fit." A soft voice came from behind Jon. He turned his neck to see Daenerys walking towards him. "We just need to add some red to your drab clothes."

Jon snorted in amusement. "Maybe one day." He admitted. "How was the council?"

Dany rolled her eyes. "The freed men want one thing, the former masters want another and claim they will bring more war to the city. Nothing new." She explained. "I rather wish I could do as you do and not bother."

"One of us has to be there, and you are much better at diplomacy than I." Jon smirked, shaking Rhaegal off to go and fly around as Dany joined him. He opened his arms for her and allowed her to sink into his body, clearly needing the small act of comfort.

Dany sighed contently, wrapping her arms around his torso. "It won't be forever." She told him. Jon pulled back slightly to look down at her face. "I know what you're thinking, Jon. You miss your home, that's only right. I miss mine too, and we will get there once again, I swear it. You were the one that urged caution, remember?"

"I'm happy being here with you, and I still say that waiting for news is the right call." Jon admitted. "But being with you just doesn't seem to happen very much anymore."

Dany smiled sadly, reaching up and stroking Jon's cheek. "Meereen will quiet down soon enough, and we will not be waiting to hear from Winterfell forever. They know we are here, and they know we long for home. Once they send word, then we will plan to go home." Jon nodded, leaning down to capture Dany's lips with his own. After the initial contact Dany pushed forwards, deepening the kiss, only to be interrupted by Missandei coughing. "What is it?" Dany asked, irritated, as they broke apart.

"Apologies Your Grace, but there is a delegation from the House of Loraq here to see you urgently." Missandei explained.

Jon grimaced knowingly. "Hizdahr?"

"He wishes to speak about the fighting pits, I presume." Dany muttered darkly. "Not again." She said quietly before forcing a smile on her face and looking at Missandei. "I'll be right down."

She planted another quick kiss on Jon's cheek before she followed the woman from Naath back into the pyramid, leaving Jon to sigh and turn back to survey the city beneath him, although his mind was filled with the laughter of his family back home.

* * *

It took a couple of days after the news of King Robert's passing before Ned invited his eldest sons into his solar to discuss the future. As Torrhen and Robb walked in, they saw Ned hunched over a sheathed sword, one that Torrhen very clearly recognised.

"Dark Sister." He said solemnly.

Robb looked bewildered. "The Targaryen sword? It's here?"

"Did you not know?" Torrhen asked, surprised.

"The only people outside of this room that know I have it, are Howland Reed, your Mother, and Jon." Ned explained. He then began to tell the story of the Tower of Joy to his sons, who listened attentively. Once he had finished, he ran his hand over the hilt. "The question now of course, is what do we do now?"

"How do you mean?" Robb asked.

Ned sighed. "Robert was my friend long before he was a Lord, let alone a King. I was loyal to him through that friendship, and while I would always have rebelled after Aerys executed my Father and brother, it was easier to do so with Robert beside me. Now he is dead, and our loyalty to House Baratheon isn't as straightforward as it was a few day ago."

"Stannis has Bran." Robb reminded everyone. "He is engaged to the man's daughter."

"I know, and Daenerys has Jon." Ned explained. "Tell me, would you fight against one of your brothers if it came to it? Would you expect me to fight against one of my sons?" Robb couldn't answer that. "If things were as simple as Stannis turning away from the Seven to follow the Red God, this would be easier."

Torrhen shook his head. "Melisandre hasn't shown her face as far as I know." He said thankfully. "And we are all better off for it."

"Not to mention that House Baratheon are well loved now." Robb sighed. "The war just gone and King Robert's change since the revelation… I'm not sure what a Targaryen loyalist force would look like."

Ned smiled. "Robert died well liked and well thought of, despite all those years under the Lannister's thumb. He will be grateful of that I am sure, but Stannis is not well liked. Respected, yes, but not well liked."

"We don't even know what Jon thinks of all this." Torrhen said cautiously. "He isn't the type to want to put thousands in a grave for his birth right."

Robb nodded. "He would hate the thought." The heir to Winterfell turned to Ned. "Let me go to Meereen. I can speak with him and the Targaryen woman, gage their reaction to the news."

Ned disagreed. "You need to go with your Mother to Riverrun. She's still in mourning, and seeing the children running around her childhood home will be good for her. Your son should know the future Lord Tully as well."

Torrhen knew that his Father was right. "Sending someone to Meereen isn't a bad idea though."

Ned turned to Torrhen. "You've travelled far and wide and it is not fair to ask this of you, but I would have you do it."

Torrhen went to argue, but again, his father was right. "I know the city, even if my memories of it are dark." He muttered grimly.

"I wouldn't ask this of you if it were not necessary." Ned explained. "But the facts are we cannot afford to be drawn into another war before the Long Night comes. And thinking on it, you know the Targaryen…"

"Intimately." Robb smirked, earning an elbow in the ribs from Torrhen.

"Boys!" Ned said sharply. "This is serious. She has dragons, we need them, but we need them aimed at the Others, not at the living."

The younger Starks nodded. "I will go, Father."

"You should go to Stannis' coronation first." Robb offered. "Stannis asked for House Stark's support, give it to him for now. You can go towards Essos from there."

"Good thinking." Ned nodded. "Meanwhile I will ensure things continue running smoothly here."

Torrhen looked at his family. "We're all splitting up again." He said sadly. "Arya's off to Bear Island within the month, Sansa will soon be off to the Dreadfort…"

"Once this is all over, we can all be together." Ned explained. "Until that day, we must do our duty towards the living." Torrhen nodded. "And speaking of that, I have an idea that might be necessary for the coming battles, one that you aren't going to like, Tor…"

* * *

**303 AC**

The coronation of King Stannis Baratheon was held a month after King Robert's funeral. The Throne Room was crammed with people in. Torrhen recognised Lords and Nobles from the campaign against House Lannister. Even Tyrion Lannister himself had travelled to King's Landing with his new wife, Joanna Swyft, and a number of guards to dissuade anybody that still looked to have ill feelings from the war just gone. The Blackfish was there too, taking the place of Edmure who was officially still in mourning. Other notable people that Torrhen saw were Lord Loras and his wife and son, Lord Royce on behalf of the Vale, and even Prince Oberyn Martell. The Stark did his duty in speaking with as many people as he could, but by the time the ceremony began Torrhen took his place beside his wife and son and watched as the High Septon began the long and arduous process. He kept on staring proudly at Bran, who was standing beside his betrothed at the front of the crowd.

"In the Light of the Seven, I now proclaim Stannis of the House Baratheon, First of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms." The crown that had once sat on King Robert's head was placed upon Stannis'. "Long may he reign!"

"Long may he reign!" Torrhen murmured, less enthusiastically than a large number of people in the room. He clapped along with everybody else as the room erupted in applause and Stannis stepped back to sit on the Iron Throne before the room began to move around and form the line that would go and swear fealty to the King.

Torrhen, as the eldest representative of House Stark, was thankfully early in the queue. When it came to his turn he bent the knee to Stannis and uttered the words. "Winterfell, Moat Cailin and the North is yours, Your Grace."

"Thank you, Lord Stark." Stannis said firmly. "I trust your Father is well?"

"He wishes that he could be here, Your Grace, but as you know the North requires his immediate attention." Torrhen explained.

"Of course. I would speak to you tomorrow about that." Stannis said, leaving no doubt that it would be an intense conversation. Torrhen bowed his agreement and moved off to the side, allowing Mira to bow to the new King with little Asher. Once that was done, Torrhen picked up his son and moved off to the side, sticking to the non-alcoholic drinks as he watched the party unfold.

"You look just about as miserable as I feel." He heard the voice of Tyrion approaching. Torrhen handed Asher to his mother before turning to face the Lannister. "And you were on the winning side of the war!"

Torrhen didn't smile. "King's Landing doesn't agree with my family. The sooner we leave, the happier I shall be."

"Yes." Tyrion looked around the room. "It happened here, didn't it."

It wasn't a question, and Torrhen knew exactly what Tyrion was talking about. "Father never speaks on it, but this room will always give me chills for as long as I live."

"Enough about the Mad King and his crimes, especially around young ears." Mira said firmly.

Torrhen smirked at her abrasiveness. "May I introduce my wife the Lady Mira, Lord Tyrion."

Mira offered the Imp her hand, and he duly kissed it. "My Lady."

"My Lord." Mira replied.

"And my son, Asher." Torrhen introduced.

Tyrion grinned. "I had heard that the Butcher of the Rock was a father, congratulations." Torrhen scowled at the name. "Hello Asher."

Asher just looked confused at the Lannister Lord. "Say hello." Mira urged.

"Hello." Asher said, before pushing his thumb in his mouth.

Tyrion laughed. "Delightful. This is my own new wife, Lady Joanna."

Joanna Swyft was an extremely thin woman and looked nervous to be there, although she curtseyed and greeted the pair kindly. "My Lord, My Lady."

"Lord Torrhen here is one of the main reasons I have half of my gold." Tyrion grinned, clearly enjoying his drinks. "I trust it is going to good use."

"Whenever you find the time to visit Moat Cailin, I'm sure you will find out." Torrhen explained. "Your gold has really helped with the build."

Tyrion snorted. "Quite right." He sighed. "Well, I should mingle with some more of these nobles that would rather have my head than my conversation. Take care, Torrhen Stark."

Torrhen bowed his head as the little man took his wife's hand and led her away, leaving Torrhen and Mira stood alone, slightly bemused. "He's so… jovial. Considering what's happened." Mira commented quietly.

"Inside he's screaming." Torrhen noted. "He wants most of the people in this room dead for what happened, himself included for betraying his own kin."

Mira shook her head sadly. "He had no choice."

"No, and he is living with the consequences." Torrhen said. He looked around and scoffed at the party that was beginning to grow. "These people, they have no idea what's coming."

Mira placed a free hand on Torrhen's chest. "We fight so that revelry like this can be had." She told him. "It's late and we have a long few months ahead of us, is there anybody else we have to speak to?"

"Only Bran. I should spend time with my brother." Torrhen told his wife. "If you want to take Asher to bed though…"

"No bed." Asher mumbled from Mira's arms. Torrhen grinned and took his son back.

"Very well, let us go and say hello to Uncle Bran." He told the toddler happily, moving over to the gallery where Bran was standing talking to Shireen about a book. "Bran." He said.

Bran looked annoyed, but his face lit up when he saw Torrhen. "Tor!" He exclaimed. "You're here!"

Torrhen grinned and set Asher down on the ground, allowing the toddler to stand on his own feet for a bit. "Of course I am." He smiled, hugging his brother. "I presume this is your betrothed?"

More introductions were had, and Torrhen actually found himself enjoying the occasion whilst stood on the gallery out of the crowd. He allowed Bran to get acquainted with Asher whilst he and Mira spoke with Shireen, hearing all about Dragonstone's history thanks to the young girls limited time anywhere else. By the end of the night Torrhen was content in the thought that his brother would have a happy marriage, but it was a sombre mood that he drifted off to sleep feeling, hoping that his words alone would be enough to stop the potential bloodshed between Jon and Bran's factions.

* * *

**That's the last chapter before a bit of a time skip, as we let the world settle into the reign of King Stannis whilst Torrhen journeys to Slaver's Bay. **

**It's a sad farewell to King Robert Baratheon, but necessary for the plot over the next 15 chapters. He redeemed himself in the eyes of many and actually had a trueborn daughter, but ultimately his willingness to be better cost him as he caught the plague from one of his subjects.**

**Elsewhere, Jon and Dany know more of what's happened in Westeros thanks to Varys, who has been absent for half the story! That gives you a look into what he went through after helping Cersei and Jaime and his reasons behind it too.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I'm going to try and get back into the swing of writing, but I can never promise anything.**

**Next time: Torrhen arrives in Meereen bearing gifts, while in Westeros the Stark family grows even more…**

**Reviews:**

**Zyruss Villarreal: A united House Baratheon is a longstanding love of mine, and the main reason behind the title of my Baratheon story. Writing Stannis and Renly as allies is something I really enjoy doing.**

**George Cristian810: Perhaps, but in this world and this scenario Valyrians are officially different by law, so as much as you dislike it, it's a part of the world and will stay a part of the story.**

**yesboss21: It was specifically stated that he travelled by land and visited the Wall, and on his way up he travelled the wrong side of the North for Skagos, not that anybody would want to visit there, it's only a part of the North officially. As for Cat's return to Riverrun, she's going to visit her grieving brother and to mourn for her father, why does she need an army?**


	51. Reunion of Ice and Fire

**As a word of warning, the next few chapters are going to have big time jumps and we'll go from Season 5 to Season 8 in 6 chapters. This is simply down to the fact that the majority of the world is simply preparing for the coming winter and the amount of travelling that will be happening. This chapter for example would be placed in around Episode 5 or 6 of Season 5.**

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter, reviews seem to be dropping off a bit so I'm not sure if some of you are or not. All reviews are welcome, good or bad!**

**I own nothing but the characters that are my own creations, everyone and everything else belong to George R R Martin or HBO.**

* * *

**304 AC**

Ned Stark watched from the battlements of the East Gate as the procession began to weave its way down the ploughed road. Winter wasn't quite here yet, but as Ned looked across the white fields that separated Winterfell from the Wintertown, it was surely close.

It had been a long year since Robert Baratheon had died. Arya had left for Bear Island to foster with House Mormont soon after the news had arrived in the North and was supposedly thriving on the island. Then Torrhen and Mira had taken Asher to King's Landing, having been forced to stay for longer than they had wanted due to negotiations about the Night's Watch and the Free Folk. Ned was grateful that Torrhen and Mira had resolved that with the King and was also thankful that as far as he was aware, the Free Folk had held up their end of the bargain by remaining peaceful. Small skirmishes had occurred between Free Folk and Northman, but nothing requiring Winterfell's attention which Ned was happy about.

Greyport was growing on the North's west coast, with Oldtown and Seagard being two extremely important trading allies for the new town. Robett Glover's castle of Shorestone was also just about completed, with only the final tower and furnishings needing to be completed from his last report. Even Wolfswatch in the Gift was coming along, with the Giants lending a helping hand to Rickon's future stronghold.

The only castle under construction that Ned had actually seen in the past year was Moat Cailin, and he was almost jealous of Torrhen. All but two towers were now completed, and the Winter Gate was a mighty barricade. Ned had spent almost a week there after the gate had been completed and he could almost visualise how to defend it, the plans of which formed a rather large wad of parchment in his Winterfell solar.

Around three months after Torrhen and Mira left for the capital, Winterfell emptied. Catelyn had taken Sara and Rickon, along with Robin Arryn to Riverrun in order to say a final farewell to her Father. Robb, Wylla and Beron had joined them, leaving Winterfell almost empty apart from Sansa. It had allowed for Ned to get a lot of work done, but he missed his family. That was why he was currently stood watching as the procession rode towards Winterfell, eagerly anticipating their arrival.

Once they were close enough Ned took the steps down to the ground and waited in the courtyard, and he was soon joined by Sansa and her husband. Sansa had been invaluable as the Lady of Winterfell in Cat and Wylla's absence, and Ned was truly proud as to how his eldest daughter had grown.

"Are they almost here?" Sansa asked excitedly.

Ned nodded. "Moments away." Sansa squealed and clapped her gloved hands together, causing Domeric to laugh and pull her towards him, calming her down.

"RIDERS AT THE GATES!" A voice called from the top of the gate, and it opened up agonisingly slowly. Ned watched as the first horses galloped into the courtyard, and he wasn't surprised to see Rickon and Robin Arryn racing one another, closely followed by Grey Wind, Shaggydog and Red. His youngest son was now 9 with thick curly auburn hair, and from Robb's letters he was turning out to be a fine young swordsman. Robin Arryn meanwhile was the polar opposite to the boy that had been smuggled out of King's Landing. He was growing tall and his shoulders were starting to broaden. He was 13 now and whilst he would never be an expert warrior, he was a fine rider and had even had wits about him, Robb reported.

"I won!" Robin exclaimed excitedly.

"You cheated!" Rickon cried out.

"Did not!" Robin retorted.

The heir to Winterfell, now 20 years of age and a strapping, bearded man, rode in quickly after them. "Boys! What did we say!" He barked.

Robin and Rickon both looked down still sat atop their horses. "To ride in formation." They murmured.

"And racing off was not formation." He chastised them. "What must Father think."

Ned couldn't care less. He stepped forwards towards Rickon and helped him off his horse. "I'll allow it, this once." He told Rickon pointedly. "Only because I have missed you all so much." He hugged Rickon tightly, as Sansa did the same to Robb and Robin. Ned then moved to Robb and allowed Rickon to start babbling on to Sansa. "It is good to see you, son."

"And you Father." Robb admitted. "I've missed this place."

Ned looked behind at the still open gate. "Your mother?"

"In the wheelhouse with Wylla and the children." Robb answered. "Lyarra was fussing this morning and Mother was adamant that Rickon was the youngest allowed to ride alone. Beron wasn't happy."

"Beron is riding?" Ned asked, happily.

"Only ponies and strong foals and even then only at a walking pace unless he's with me or Wylla." Robb answered. "But yes, he's almost as natural as Arya, you'll have to watch him. Uncle Edmure gifted him a Bracken pony for his 4th nameday."

Ned smiled fondly at the thought of his Grandson, but then Robb's words truly sunk in. "Lyarra… she is well?" He asked after his daughter, who Cat had named after his own Mother. Lyarra Stark had been born whilst Catelyn had been in Riverrun and Ned had almost ridden down to meet her. Sansa had been the one to dissuade him from that, but Ned was itching to meet his youngest, and likely his last, child.

"She is healthy." Robb smiled. "She's sitting up on her own now."

That pained Ned a bit as he thought on the things he had missed, but overall he was just happy that he had another healthy child. "We have truly been blessed." He said softly.

"Aye, we have." Robb grinned. "I cannot wait for you to meet Rodrik, either."

The reason that they had all stayed for so long at Riverrun was a shock to Ned once the raven had arrived at Winterfell, but just before they had departed it seems that Wylla had gotten pregnant too, eventually birthing another boy, Rodrik. He was only a couple of months old at his point, but the ever-growing family truly filled Ned's heart with more joy than he could ever put into words. "We shall have plenty of time for introductions." Ned explained. In the distance he saw the wheelhouse coming into view. "For now though, I must greet your Mother."

Robb nodded knowingly and went back over to Sansa, dragging the two younger boys with him. "Stay still." He warned them, and Ned chuckled at the paternal like authority that was coming from his son.

He watched the wheelhouse pull into the courtyard and stop, the steps being brought around and the doors opening. First out came Beron and Sara, both running to their Father's. Ned hugged his daughter tightly as Wylla Manderly then left the wheelhouse holding a tiny bundle. Initial greetings were had, but Ned soon saw the last figure in the wheelhouse and his breath hitched.

Catelyn was still as beautiful as he had ever thought her. In her arms she held a baby, a dark haired, dark grey eyed baby. Ned felt tears in his eyes as he swept towards them, wrapping his spare arm around his wife and kissing her softly on the lips. "My Lady." He said softly.

"My Lord." Cat smiled. "Meet your daughter, Lyarra." She let him take a step back and place Sara on her feet as Ned took his own mother's namesake in his arms, holding her up to his face. Lyarra screwed her eyes up as she initially rejected the stranger in front of her, but as Ned placed a gentle kiss to her head, the dark-haired baby giggled and gripped his beard tightly.

"A small feast has been prepared." Ned told them all. "I'll let you all settle in and we shall meet in the hall in an hour."

An hour later and both the wine and the food were flowing nicely. Ned had told them all what had happened in the North while they had been away and was listening to all the southern news. As well as the new Stark arrivals, Edmure had had another son, named Oscar. Cat was glowing as she spoke about her niece and nephew. "Axel reminds me of Edmure when he was young, so full of life and laughs." She explained. "He grew very close to Beron."

That was exactly what Ned had wanted. "I'm glad to hear it." He nodded. "We will have to encourage that friendship."

"I don't think that will be hard." Wylla admitted. "It almost took a small army to pry them away from one another when it was time to leave."

The adults chuckled. "I am glad you enjoyed yourselves, all of you." Ned admitted. "We need times like those to forge memories worth fighting for." He knew he had darkened the tone, but as it had been for the last 7 years, the coming battle with the dead was in the back of his mind.

"Ned…" Cat warned.

"He's right, Mother." Robb told her. "Riverrun was a well needed break, but reality beckons." He turned to Ned. "Have we heard from Torrhen recently?"

Ned paled. "Not since Volantis… and that was many weeks ago…"

* * *

Torrhen's sense of déjà vu was basically numb by this point as it seemed to flare up regularly. As he stood on the deck of the _Frostfang_ as the ship sailed towards the city of Meereen the Lord of the Causeway felt it again staring up at the gigantic pyramids dotted across the skyline. The harbour looked busy with traders from the distance he was at, a sight which Torrhen smiled at as he scratched Balerion's fur beside him. "Here we are again, Bal." He murmured. "Once again seeking an audience with Daenerys Targaryen."

"Papa!" He heard a high-pitched voice racing towards him. Turning around just in time, Torrhen knelt down and scooped his sprinting three-year-old son up in his arms.

"What are you doing up on deck?" He asked Asher, who just grinned.

"I wanted to see you." The toddler said innocently.

Torrhen chuckled and held him up, pointing towards the pyramids. "These are the pyramids of Meereen. This is where your Uncle Jon is, you remember us talking about your Uncle Jon?" Asher nodded.

"Asher Stark!" A stern voice sounded. Torrhen turned again to see Mira coming towards them angrily. "What did I say about wearing fur?"

Asher pouted. "It too hot." He spoke babylike. Torrhen hadn't even noticed that his son had clumsily wrapped a fur cloak around his shoulders. Chuckling, he unstrapped it with his free hand and handed the cloak to his wife.

"Thank you." Mira said, although she seemed exasperated. "Come on, we will soon arrive, and you haven't tidied your chest up, your toys are everywhere."

Torrhen put Asher back down on the deck and allowed Mira to drag the toddler away, and he returned to stroking Balerion whilst he looked over the water as the ship sailed into the docks. This time they weren't met by a rowboat and were guided straight in and were allowed to dock immediately. Torrhen met up with his wife and son as the ship ground to a halt, and before he stepped off the ship he caught the captain. "Make sure that my chambers are locked at all times. Nobody is to enter, and nobody is to go into the chest." He instructed. The captain bowed, and Torrhen stepped off of the ship for the first time in weeks, followed by Mira, Asher, and a pair of men dressed in Stark leathers.

At the end of the pier a small procession had gathered. Torrhen recognised the dozens of Unsullied spears and armour, even noticing the familiar glare of Grey Worm, he grinned when he noticed Missandei's untameable hair, and then he saw the Northmen. Jory Cassel looked older, but Torrhen was more than glad to see the loyal man still alive. His last memory of Ser Jorah was of the old man dead in Daenerys' arms as Torrhen himself bled out in Jon's, so to see the Knight of Bear Island alive and well made the grin on Torrhen's face widen, and then he saw the two that he had travelled all this way to see.

Jon was taller, and he had grown out his beard a bit. His hair was tied back in the same manner Torrhen's was, a replication of Ned's style. He wore dark clothing as always, the black offset with grey detailing, but Torrhen saw the hint of red on the inside of Jon's cape. Daenerys on the other hand looked as beautiful as Torrhen remembered, in a revealing white dress that really brought out her purple eyes.

Torrhen and his party stopped a couple of feet away from the Targaryen party just off the wooden pier and they were all silent for a moment. Torrhen looked from Jon to Dany and back again multiple times before he broke out into a happy laughter. "Your Grace." He bowed his head towards Daenerys.

"You never need to call me that, Torrhen Stark." Daenerys told him firmly. "Never."

Torrhen grinned. "Dany." He corrected himself. "Jon, or is it Aegon now?"

"Always Jon." Jon responded, ignoring all formalities and stepping forwards to envelop Torrhen in a fierce hug. "I have missed you, brother."

"And I you." Torrhen told him, returning the hug. They squeezed for a few seconds before stepping back, and Torrhen moved to hug Daenerys. "It is wonderful to see you."

Dany had tears forming in her eyes. "I thought I never would again." She said, before looking behind him at the rest of Torrhen's group. "Balerion." She grinned. Balerion didn't move, but his tongue flopped out of his mouth in a sort of grin. Then Dany looked to Mira and Asher in her arms.

"May I introduce Lady Mira Stark, my wife." Torrhen said, stepping aside for Mira to come forwards. "And our son, Asher."

Dany's grin was wide now too. "I always hoped that he found you." She said to Mira. "It is an honour to meet you, My Lady."

Mira curtseyed. "The honour is mine, Your Grace." She said. "Thank you for looking after him when I couldn't."

Dany suddenly looked shocked and her eyes darted to Torrhen, who laughed. "She knows, she's back too."

"Right…" Dany trailed off. "It seems we do have a lot to discuss." She gestured for them to follow her. "Rooms will be prepared for you and your men in the Great Pyramid, I'm sure you are in need of a long rest."

* * *

A small feast was had that night, but Torrhen and Mira both retired early in order to rest in a proper bed for the first time in months. Torrhen found himself awake before dawn the next morning however, and after trying to fall back to sleep, he silently got out of bed and put on some loose fitting trousers and a white bed shirt, grabbed Winter's Bite and some cleaning tools for the blade and snuck out of the room towards Daenerys' balcony in the apex of the pyramid. Balerion followed him and curled up at his feet as Torrhen unsheathed Winter's Bite and began the process of oiling it.

"You cannot sleep either?" Dany asked from the doorway. She brought herself a chair too and sat down opposite Torrhen, who continued his ministrations on the sword.

"I forgot how hot it is here." Torrhen admitted. "It took me a while to get used to it before."

Dany nodded, looking out onto the moonlit city. "Things are a lot different than before." She commented. "The area is safer, more amenable to change. My years of experience in King's Landing were beneficial in helping me keep the peace this time around."

That statement gave more information about what had happened after his own death than anything since his vision when he first got sent back. "You beat Cersei then?" He asked. Before he died they hadn't planned too far ahead after the battle against the White Walkers with them not knowing how their combined armies would look afterwards.

Dany smiled and nodded. "It was tough… I still look back on that battle and remember how I almost let myself burn the city to the ground…" She winced, but the calm stare from Torrhen made her sigh and explain herself. "She had these scorpions made and one of them struck Rhaegal and Jon… he fell, and I just felt something in myself snap. But then I saw a child pulling at the arm of her mother that had died at my doing, and I caught myself." She sniffed and wiped a tear away. "This all happened decades ago for me and I still remember the girls face."

"Decades?" Torrhen asked hopefully. "You lived for so long?"

Dany nodded, smiling. "I had great grandchildren, Torrhen." She told him. "Daeron and Baelon were babes when I died, but I lived to see them."

Torrhen was pleased for her. "I am glad." He told her. "So you had a boy? In our last private conversation you let slip that you were with child." And then he had gotten into an argument with Wylla Manderley, but he quickly glossed over that.

Dany nodded. "Of course, I forgot that I was pregnant when you died." She said softly. "Aemon we named him, and then we had Rhaegar."

"And what of…" Torrhen trailed off, not knowing if he wanted to know.

"Cregan was a close ally and friend." Dany explained. "I travelled up to Winterfell last for Wylla's funeral, 6 years before my own death. He was happy, he thought of you as a hero even then." She chuckled. "Sansa would tell him stories as a babe, and they stuck with him. I remember the last time I was in the crypts, Cregan was 40 years of age and still asking questions about his Father."

Torrhen had his own tears now. "Thank you." He whispered. "For telling me. I love Asher and I love my life here, but in the back of my head I have always thought on Cregan. That's my curse for living a second life I feel, not knowing him."

"He would have made you proud." Dany insisted. "He named his heir after you, and your Grandson Torrhen had had a boy when I last saw him. House Stark was growing."

Torrhen chuckled, wiping his tear away. "I doubt as much as it has now." He told her, and he began to speak on everything that had happened in Westeros since his return, speaking of visiting the Green Man and going to war against the Lannisters, forging lasting alliances and having Asher so young. Then he spoke on the trip north of the Wall and meeting the Wildlings.

"So we have a large force back home?" Dany asked. "Because I don't think I'll get the Dothraki this time."

Torrhen nodded. "We have the men, we just need the fire." He looked around. "You have the dragons, right?"

Dany smirked, and she began her own tale. Most of it Torrhen knew as it was similar to before, but her relationship with Jon and his own actions in Essos were fascinating to him. "I'm pleased you have each other early this time around."

Dany smiled. "Me too. I enjoyed our… dalliance… but it was never quite enough. I hope I don't offend you saying that." She chuckled.

Torrhen shook his head amusedly. "We used each other for comfort in times of crisis, I will never regret that." He told her. "But I am infinitely happier now than I ever was back then. Mira being alive… it's freeing."

"It's good to see you so happy." Dany admitted. "But anyway, the dragons. They are about, somewhere. After taking King's Landing I took it upon myself to know everything I possibly could about dragonlore, and whilst they are still wild creatures, I have Drogon and Viserion well under control."

The name drops didn't escape Torrhen. "Rhaegal?"

"Is Jon's responsibility." Dany grinned. "They bonded. He is as large as Drogon but calmer, more calculating."

"Can they make the journey across the Narrow Sea?" Torrhen asked eagerly, placing Winter's Bite back in its sheath and leaning forwards. "Are they ready for that?"

"Perhaps." Dany replied cautiously. "You have a plan, don't you." It wasn't a question.

Torrhen nodded. "This isn't just a social call, Dany. Robert Baratheon is dead."

Dany took a sharp intake of breath. "I had heard rumours…" She whispered.

"He is dead, he has been for a while." Torrhen explained. "And while Stannis Baratheon sits the Iron Throne now, my Father understands the importance of you and the dragons. If you are willing, he has offered the hospitality of Winterfell."

Dany grinned. "I yearn for my home, and I know Jon does even more so. Give me a couple of weeks to settle things here and we shall depart."

Torrhen honestly wasn't expecting it to be so easy. "Just like that?"

"I have a ruling council, I am just the figurehead." Dany shrugged. "All of the Bay of Dragons can rule efficiently and slave free without me being here. I have done what I set out to do, the time has come for me to come home."

* * *

Later on that day when the city awoke, Jon took Torrhen down to the area of the Great Pyramid that he had turned into a training yard and the two Northmen were putting each other through their paces. Both of their experiences over the last few years had made them both far better than the last time they had sparred together, and by the end of the bout they were both panting and sweating like mad. Torrhen pulled his shirt off as he dropped the training sword to the ground and gulped down some water.

"I can't believe how much you've grown." Jon chuckled, having a drink himself.

Torrhen shrugged. "The last time you saw me I was 13 and barely a man, now I'm almost 18 and a man grown, a Lord in my own right." He grinned as he grabbed a cloth to wipe his sweat. "A lot has happened since you left, Jon. We're all different."

Jon's smile dropped. "I know, and I wish I could see you all." He said solemnly.

"You will." Torrhen said, dropping the cloth and placing a hand on Jon's shoulder, squeezing. "We'll all be back together soon enough, you'll see."

"It will never be the same though." Jon said. "I'm not trying to be down about it and wish for things to go back to how it was, I've just missed out on so much being away. I mean, look at you, you're a Father, Tor."

Torrhen grinned as he thought of Asher. "I am." He confirmed. "As is Robb."

"And Sansa is wed…" Jon trailed. "I've just missed so much." He repeated.

"But look at you here." Torrhen tried to be positive. "You're basically the King of Meereen, you and Daenerys conquered Slaver's Bay and made it your own. You should be proud!"

"I am." Jon admitted. "And I love Daenerys with all I have, don't mistake my reminiscing for regret, brother." He sighed dramatically. "But she could have done all this without me, she _did_ do all this without me." He shuddered. "I still can't quite get over this whole other lives thing."

Torrhen nodded. "It was tough to get used to at first, but then I remember what the other world was like. We were at odds because I didn't tell you about your heritage straight away, Father was dead, Mother was dead, Robb was dead… even Rickon died." He felt immense pain as he remembered them all. "Winterfell was burnt, I was forced to come here for an alliance, Mira…" He stopped to compose himself before the younger of the pair broke down. "When I died, in your arms by the way, we got a second chance to fix all of those wrongs. No it hasn't been perfect, we've lost people, but House Stark is still strong. Our family is still alive."

Jon nodded, smiling awkwardly for a brief moment. "Can you show me?" He asked. "Your other time."

Torrhen nodded. "When we are back. I need a Weirwood." He admitted. "For now though, you can tell me about your time in Essos, I hear you and Dany even share chambers." His eyebrow was raised enquiringly, and the grin on Torrhen's face just showed the teasing nature of his question.

"Not like that." Jon defended himself. "We aren't married…"

"So?" Torrhen asked.

"I won't father a bastard." Jon stated snappily. "You know that."

Torrhen held his hands up to show he wasn't trying to be aggressive. "I've been here a day, and already I can see that you are already her husband, in actions if not in name. Why not just wed, there has to be a ceremony here..."

"There is." Jon sighed, finding a chair to sit himself in. "But it's not the same. We both want it to be under our own Gods, not these foreign ones."

Torrhen could understand that. "You're a better man than me, Jon. That's for certain." He probably should have married Daenerys when they had their time together before, and Torrhen remembered how adamantly he believed he was doing the right thing by refusing. As he looked at Jon now however, he knew that thoughts like that would only tether him to the past. "But as far as I can tell, a lack of marriage doesn't mean you've not been having fun…"

Jon snorted in laughter. "Aye, you could say that."

* * *

Swords clashed fiercely as Bran panted, trying to stay ahead of his opponent and look for the finishing blow. He ducked, dodged and jumped out of the way of Ser Justin Massey, before bringing his shield up to block another blow, pushing the sword to the left before jabbing out and poking his training sword into the Red Keep's Master-at-Arms' midriff.

"Dead." The 14-year-old Stark panted, letting his sword arm hang loose at his side and stepping back. He looked over at some of the applause and saw his betrothed applauding, with Summer laying down at her side. Grinning, he took his helmet off and went to grab some water.

"Very good, Stark." Ser Justin nodded approvingly. "Though you're still clumsy with your shield. It should be an extension of your arm, not something that's in the way."

Bran rolled his eyes. "It is in the way though, neither of my brothers use one."

Ser Justin shook his head. "You are not your brothers, and whilst you are in my yard, you will listen, understand?"

"Of course he does." The voice of King Stannis was heard, and Bran looked up to see the Lord of the Seven Kingdom's walking towards them, flanked by Ser Rolland Storm and Ser Hugh of the Vale. He had changed his crown soon after his coronation, now preferring a simple golden band with small stag antlers sticking out the top. "Brandon wishes to become a southern knight, not a barrow knight, and he will learn the ways of knighthood through southern teachings."

"Your Grace." Ser Justin bowed his head, and Bran followed suit.

"Leave us, Ser Justin." Stannis commanded. "I would speak with my squire." Ser Justin bowed his head and took Bran's training sword and shield before clearing the training yard. "Follow me." Bran did as he was asked and the quartet of King, squire and Kingsguard all walked towards the Red Keep. "My daughter seems adamant that she should miss her lessons to watch you train."

Bran blushed at the thought of Shireen. They had spent a good amount of time together in the year since the coronation and Bran thought of her as a good friend, and they had even shared a kiss a couple of months ago after her nameday celebrations, although neither had spoken of it since. "I am grateful for the Princesses support, Your Grace." He explained. "She reminds me of why I need to get better, to protect our future."

Stannis nodded curtly. "Very good." He told the young man. They walked on for longer, before arriving at the King's chambers. They walked to the balcony and stared down at the city below. Fleabottom was almost rebuilt, with only a few more amenities still to be completed. The housing was smart and compact, the buildings dyed as red as the Red Keep to keep with the theme of the city. "I look down on the city and see an achievement, yet the people still blame me for the destruction of the old Fleabottom."

"The people don't see your vision." Bran countered. "They only see that their homes were ordered to be destroyed."

Stannis nodded. "One day it could well be your responsibility to care for these people. Renly is my heir yes, but as Cersei Lannister proved, the succession is never secure. If by chance Shireen does come to rule King's Landing, it is important to not let the peoples displeasure detract you from your goal." Bran nodded at the lesson. "You are aware of the terms of your betrothal, are you not?"

Bran nodded. "We are to wed when the Princess turns 16 next year, and all children shall take the Baratheon name due to the wedding being…" He forgot the word.

"Matrilineal." Stannis finished for him. "Yes. Though you will still be 15 and will be required to foster with me until you come of age."

That wasn't an issue for Bran, he had come to enjoy his life at court after all and was in no rush to live on Dragonstone for the rest of his life. "Robb has two sons, Torrhen has one. I'd be proud to have Baratheon children." He said formally. "I was thinking…" He trailed off, not knowing if he should ask his next question.

"Go on." Stannis encouraged.

"I had a thought about my sigil." Bran admitted. "I'm not a knight yet and cannot have my own personal one, but when I do, I wondered if it would be ok with you to change my colours?"

Stannis raised an eyebrow. "This is a conversation you should have with your Father, not me."

"Except the colours I want to change it to are House Baratheon's." Bran added quickly. "A black Direwolf on a field of gold." Stannis looked down at Bran with a look of both surprise and respect. "I thought, since I have this Lordship because of your daughter, and my knighthood eventually thanks to you, it would be good to honour you both."

Stannis nodded, a rare smile hinted at on his lips. "I would like that." He said calmly. "Thank you, Brandon."

Bran grinned. "Do you need me to fetch you your supper?" He asked. Stannis nodded, and Bran bowed low and left the King's chambers for the kitchens, feeling like skipping in delight the whole way.

* * *

**I've been looking forward to this chapter for the entire story I won't lie. Torrhen and Dany was the most sought after pairing in both my Stark stories, and whilst I'm adamant that they aren't a romantic partnership, they are very good friends still so having them meet and talk once more is something I really enjoyed writing. There's something for the few of you that are interested in the future of the Risesverse as I've dubbed the other timeline, with some information on what happened afterwards with Cregan Stark, Torrhen's son in Black Wolf Rises.**

**Bran and Stannis' relationship is also one I'm really enjoying, it's nice giving Stannis a sense of parental responsibility over a boy, and Bran is just so likeable before he becomes the Three Eyed Raven in the show.**

**Finally, the biggest information dump was obviously in Ned's chapter. So to break it down for everyone there has been a jump of over one year since the last chapter. Both Cat and Wylla have had children, with Lyarra Stark being the youngest child of Ned and Cat, and Rodrik Stark being the second born son of Robb and Wylla. The Stark family tree is growing for sure! I'll put it here in the simplest of terms for everyone.**

Ned Stark (263 AC) – Catelyn Stark (264 AC)

\- - - Robb Stark (283 AC) – Wylla Manderly (284 AC)

\- - - - - - _Beron Stark (300 AC)_

\- - - - - - _Rodrik Stark (303 AC)_

\- - - Sansa Stark (286 AC) – Domeric Bolton (281 AC)

\- - - Torrhen Stark (286 AC) – Mira Forrester (286 AC)

\- - - - - - _Asher Stark (300 AC)_

\- - - Arya Stark (289 AC)

\- - - Brandon (Bran) Stark (290 AC)

\- - - Rickon Stark (295 AC)

\- - - Sara Stark (299 AC)

\- - - Lyarra Stark (303 AC)

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I shall (hopefully) be back next week with Jon and Dany sitting down with Torrhen as they discuss the future officially, as well as an update from Castle Black and Jaime Lannister…**

**Reviews:**

**Zyruss Villarreal: Stannis wouldn't bend to a Targaryen after fighting them in Robert's Rebellion. If he fought on in the actual series against all odds then he'd do so here too. As for House Stark's allegiance, it's not so simple as they'd just fight for the Targaryen's. They have a marriage pact with Stannis and that means something in this world, and House Baratheon are also allied with House Tyrell through Renly and Margaery's marriage. Meanwhile all they have linking them to House Targaryen is Jon.**


	52. Dragonrider

**Here we are again with another chapter! I realised while writing this chapter that I teased a Sam Tarly scene a few chapters ago and ended up cutting it, so here is a chapter with an actual scene, and an update on what's been happening with our lovable Reachman. **

**Covid-19 seems to be starting on its second wave again here in the UK, while over in the US the news over here is seeming like it is brutal in certain states. I just want everyone to stay alert and careful, and to wear a mask if you're going into crowded, indoor places. There are lots of debates going on about wearing masks but honestly, it shouldn't be that big of an ask to cover your nose and mouth for a few minutes if you're going to the shops.**

**In more positive news, I am thrilled that HBO are casting Rhaenyra Targaryen and Alicent Hightower. I honestly can't wait for House of the Dragon… the Dance of the Dragons is one of my favourite eras in the lore, and honestly it's made for TV. I can't wait to see things like the Battle over the Gods Eye, Cregan Stark, Bloody Ben Blackwood... I'm getting excited just thinking about it. What will be interesting though is the audience reaction to Blood and Cheese. I know that the Ramsay and Sansa wedding night was complained about a lot and rightfully so, but when it comes to Blood and Cheese I can see many casual viewers complaining about that brutality. Of course it's not going to be available to watch until around 2022 at the earliest, but I am honestly looking forward to it so much.**

**I hope you all enjoy this chapter. As always I own nothing but Torrhen and the other OC's. All other characters and places are the property of George R R Martin and HBO.**

* * *

The Small Council was done for the day, and Bran was on his way to the gardens for a walk with Shireen. As he made his way there he thought back on the council. The King seemed to value his opinion strangely and so he was often asked about the affairs of the realm, especially when it came to the North. Thankfully, Wyman Manderly was there to guide Bran in the matters of his homeland, and the overweight Lord was a proud supporter of the young Stark's.

Since Stannis' coronation only two changes had been made to the Small Council. With Stannis taking up the mantle as King, the role of the Hand was filled by his trusted advisor Ser Davos Seaworth, the smuggler turned landed knight. Unfortunately for Bran that meant that it was even more important for Matthos to be away from King's Landing as he ran Rain House, as well as spending time with his new wife. That appointment had left the role of Master of Ships available, and Stannis had picked the heir to Oldtown for that role, Ser Baelor Hightower. Ser Baelor was a handsome man that had been instrumental in the war against the Lannister's after Lord Randyll Tarly's death and Bran thought that he was a good appointment.

As his thoughts on Ser Baelor ended the 14-year-old Stark noticed he was coming to the gardens, and in the distance he saw Shireen playing with Summer, Ser Perwyn Frey was standing guard. Bran walked over to them with a smile. "Princess."

Shireen looked over at him and beamed. "Bran! You're finally out." She exclaimed. "How was it?"

"Dull as ever, Princess." Bran explained coyly. "How has your morning been?"

Shireen grinned. "I finally got the Maester to talk about Lyonel Baratheon."

Bran chuckled. Every few weeks Shireen would have a new obsession with history and would encourage her tutors to tailor her lessons around it. "And what did you find?"

"That Ser Duncan the Tall must have been quite the knight." Shireen shrugged. "But he still sounded brilliant." She offered out her hand for Bran to take, which he duly did as they started walking around the gardens, with Summer and Ser Perwyn behind them. "Father spoke to me last night… he mentioned how you were thinking about your own sigil."

Bran was a little surprised, but he nodded. "I can't use my Father's all my life, and Torrhen has his own one for Moat Cailin. I am the Lord of Dragonstone thanks to my betrothal to you, I should have one that reflects that."

"Maybe it should be a grey dragon." Shireen giggled.

Bran didn't really see the funny side. "I wouldn't disrespect your family like that." He said softly. "But I thought… I could honour them. Have a full bodied direwolf unlike my family and have it in the colours of House Baratheon." He felt Shireen stop and unwillingly pull back on his hand, and so Bran stopped and turned around to see tears forming in her eyes. Bran's eyes went wide in horror as he felt like he had offended her. "I don't have to… I mean… if you don't want me to…"

"That's really lovely." Shireen whispered, throwing her hands around Bran's neck and pressing her lips to his. Bran just stood there in a daze, allowing the kiss to happen. A loud cough from behind them broke the two young teenagers apart as Ser Perwyn made sure they stayed respectful, but Bran didn't care as a grin forced its way onto his face. They began walking again in a comfortable silence until Shireen asked. "Could I make it for you?"

Bran nodded. "I would like that." He told her. "I would like that a lot."

* * *

After a couple of days in Meereen Torrhen felt that the novelty had worn off. The heat was even more unbearable than he remembered, and it was a struggle to sleep. Asher hated it too and the toddler was extremely grumpy most days, only Balerion seemed to calm the child down.

Mira seemed to be enjoying herself enough though, whilst Jon and Torrhen had been sparring the last couple of days the Lady of the Causeway had taken to speaking with Daenerys, and they had bonded over both their pasts with Torrhen and Mira's older brother Asher, who's death Daenerys was sat to discover.

The married Northerners were expecting Targaryen company at noon on the second day, and Torrhen was currently shirtless waiting for Mira to finish with her hair. His own shirt was placed on the bed, but he looked at the item of clothing with disdain.

"It's too hot for it." He argued like a petulant child again. "I can go without…"

"Don't use that argument again, Torrhen." Mira rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "Yes everybody here has seen a version of you shirtless, but these are official talks on behalf of your Father, you will not negotiate with your hairy nipples hanging out."

Torrhen pouted, but the expression didn't last long as he snorted in amusement and snatched up the grey silk fabric. "Hairy nipples?" He asked, pulling it over his head.

Mira grinned as she put the final pin in her hair. "You heard me." She said, standing up and walking over to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Now come on, we're expected in the Apex."

Torrhen nodded and pulled himself off the bed, falling into place as he walked with his wife up to Daenerys' chamber. Grey Worm let them inside, and Torrhen saw Jon and Dany sat down together, holding hands gently on the table. Missandei introduced them and the pair broke apart, with Jon standing and offering them both seats and wine. Torrhen refused his glass, wanting to speak with a clear head.

"So." Daenerys said when they were all settled. "We are all friends here I know, but there are those in important positions over the Narrow Sea that aren't quite so friendly. I would be foolish to drop everything in Meereen to travel across if it means my execution."

"Lord Stark would never let that happen." Mira explained.

Torrhen agreed with his wife. "He wouldn't, you know this Jon."

Jon did. "But Stannis Baratheon might." He countered. "We need to know that we won't be arrested as soon as we reach the North."

"Stannis doesn't know about you." Torrhen told his cousin. "But he will need you. Your dragons alone will be the tide that turns the coming war into our favour, I know it and Father knows it. We will not let Stannis murder either of you, I swear it."

"And if he tries to?" Dany asked, an eyebrow raised.

Torrhen looked at his wife, who just nodded her head. "If he tries it, then the North will not stand with him." He said quietly, as if Varys wasn't on their side now. "White Harbour is strong, and we have ships on either side of the continent. Moat Cailin is even stronger. He can try and take you, he won't."

He let the declaration settle in both Jon and Daenerys' minds. The topic of handing over Jon had been a debate that had run long into the night back in Winterfell. Jon seemed to immediately realise the effects of such an action. "Bran." He simply stated.

"Is our bargaining chip." Mira told them both. "Without Bran, the Baratheon name will likely die out. Neither of you know Renly Baratheon, and none of you know him as well as I did when I served Lady Margaery. They may have been married for years, but I cannot imagine that Lady Margaery is any less of a virgin now than she was before her wedding."

"And Stannis isn't having any more children." Torrhen added. "Of course there might be pushback from Stannis and Bran may be in danger, but he can handle himself, Jon, and we have allies in the Capital ready just in case."

"The last 5 years have been planned out beyond anything you can imagine." Mira said. "We have contingencies in place."

Dany looked impressed. "The other world really gave you this much foresight?"

"No." Torrhen said simply. "The Green Men did."

Jon perked up at that. "I remember you going there. You said it was to help control your visions…" He scoffed. "But you had no visions, you were remembering the future."

Torrhen nodded. "Aye, I needed to go there to set us on this path that we are on right now, Jojen Reed confirmed it. He also told me about an old prophecy, the Prince Who was Promised. I never heard it last time, but this time Jojen said that he saw a grey dragon in the same vision as the Prince." He saw Jon pale. "Now I don't know what that means, all I do know is that you are important somehow, Jon, and you need to be there at the end, fighting the White Walkers."

"And we will be." Dany said firmly, placing a hand on Jon's. "So long as Stannis Baratheon agrees to a parlay with us. We have no quarrel with him, not this time at least, and so long as he agrees to every single one of our conditions then we will bend the knee like good little subjects and live our lives in peace."

That took Torrhen massively by surprise. "You're willing to bend the knee?" He asked.

Dany grinned. "It's funny. The last time we were here you swore that you would never bend the knee to me, even after I threatened to have you killed multiple times."

Torrhen smirked at the reminder and shrugged. "I never believed you'd do it."

"And now we are here, willing to be two subjects so long as we can live in peace." Dany said calmly. "I ruled Westeros for almost 5 decades, Torrhen. I've ruled long enough. If Stannis Baratheon gives us Dragonstone and an apology for the years his brother spent hunting us down as children, then yes I will bend the knee."

"And I have never wanted it, you know that." Jon said honestly. "I was brought up a bastard, I don't want to be a King."

"Let you live in peace and you'll bend the knee." Torrhen surmised. "I shall have to let Father know, it may take a while for us to get a response."

Dany nodded. "You are always welcome to stay here for as long as you need, you know this."

Torrhen did, and he stood up with Mira following suit and bowed his head at the two Targaryen's. "I shall get this letter away quickly. Thank you for this." He said honestly. Mira bid her goodbyes as well, and ten minutes later they were in their apartments again.

"Do you believe them?" Mira asked. "Do they really want peace?"

Torrhen thought for a moment, but he nodded. "Dany was right, the last time we were both two monarchs who had lost everything but the right to rule our people. This time, we have everything we need. I don't need Winterfell as I have you and Asher, and Dany has Jon." He nodded more firmly as he began to put ink to parchment. "Aye, I believe them."

* * *

The politics at Castle Black were just as infuriating as they had been in King's Landing, Jaime Lannister felt. After the Wildling Migration the leaders of the Night's Watch all unanimously agreed that decisions like that shouldn't be forced upon them again and set out to elect the 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, with Ser Alliser Thorne being the overwhelming victor. The atmosphere at Castle Black quickly changed after that, with Victarion Greyjoy being quickly sent over to Eastwatch. That had annoyed Jaime massively, but he got on with it and did his duties.

Jaime had been chosen as the official Master at Arms of Castle Black, and he hated every minute of it. The council meetings were dull and focused on defending the southern part of the castle rather than the actual Wall, something that despite every argument Jaime could think of to push their focus back to the White Walkers and the North, he couldn't get Thorne's mind to change.

Outside of the council meetings though, Jaime and a small group of outsiders to Thorne's command had noticed some odd happenings. Pypar, the young steward, had noticed whisperings in the kitchens between Thorne and the senior members of the castle. Grenn, a ranger that had been assigned a role in the smithy because of his dislike for Thorne, had told the Lannister knight about Donal Noye complaining about being forced to make an overabundance of new weapons. Even the fact that they had now begun sending scouting parties into the Gift. There was nothing overwhelming that made Jaime think that something was wrong, but the small things that made no sense kept adding up.

As he was gathering the blades from a training session with the new recruits, Jaime noticed Grenn and the blacksmith Donal Noye in a hushed argument as they both walked over towards him. Jaime placed the blades down and prepared himself as their debate came into earshot.

"You're being paranoid over nothing, boy. Why are we dragging this to the Kingslayer?" Noye was whispering harshly.

"He's the only one that can do something about it!" Grenn countered.

"Do something about what?" Jaime asked, quickly ending the hushed debate about him. "What's going on, Grenn?"

Grenn looked pointedly at the blacksmith. "Tell him!"

"Alright fine, you damn aurochs." Donal Noye muttered grumpily. He turned to Jaime and snarled. "I don't like you, Kingslayer. I knew Robert Baratheon from when he was a boy, and you betrayed him to lay with your own sister. That may be forgiven by most, but never by me."

"Donal…" Grenn pleaded.

"I'm getting to it!" The grumpy old one-armed mad cried out, frustrated. "I got another order today, a big one. For a lot of steel."

Jaime sighed. "More swords? We'll have 4 for every man at this rate."

"No, that's the thing." Donal explained. "They also wanted me to make portable scorpions like the ones on the Wall. Ones with wheels."

Jaime ran it through his mind. "He wants us to go on the offensive."

"Aye." Noye stated. "But the tips are to be steel, not Dragonglass."

"There was a scouting party that came back yesterday." Grenn explained. "One of them said they saw giants at the new borders."

There it was. "He's looking southwards." Jaime whispered. "Shit… this isn't good."

"I can't not make them." Donal stated. "It was a direct order."

Jaime understood that as his mind began to race. "We need to find out what Thorne is planning exactly." He surmised. "I can't believe he'd be so mad to just attack the Wildling's when Lord Stark had strict instructions that they are simply here to aid us against the Walkers."

"So what are we to do?" Grenn asked.

Jaime turned away and thought for a moment. "I'll send a letter to Winterfell, with any luck Tarly is there already and can explain the situation here. Noye, build the weapons but slowly. We need to delay Thorne for as long as we can."

Noye held up his maimed arm. "Not a problem." He said dryly.

"And Grenn, start gathering men that are not loyal to Thorne." Jaime said quietly, looking around at the busy courtyard. "Start with the men of the West, use this." He pulled off his gloves and a Lannister ring, and handed the latter to Grenn. "If what we fear is coming, then we will need all the men we can get to stop it."

* * *

Ned Stark sat in his solar with Maester Luwin as together they began wording their letter to Stannis upon Torrhen's request. His son's letter was placed on the table in front of him, and Ned kept glancing at the words as the realisation that everything was starting to come to a head was sinking in.

"We should make it seem like a request only." Luwin was explaining. "Telling His Grace too much of how we have plotted behind his back will only rile him up."

Ned nodded. "Aye, but I will need to explain it all to the King if he agrees to meet."

"It should be in a neutral location, Harrenhal perhaps." Luwin suggested.

Ned hated that idea. He hadn't returned to that cursed place since the tourney and he had no intentions of ever going back there. He should have noticed Lyanna sneaking off at night, but he was either wilfully ignorant because of her betrothal to his best friend, or the more likely reason was he just hadn't been a good brother to her, and he hadn't bothered to keep an eye on her. Before he could get upset Ned knew that he had to respond. "Not Harrenhal." He muttered firmly. "Suggest Moat Cailin. It will be finished by then and the King should see the location of our final stand before we fight there." And silently, Ned hoped that the sight of the long-standing fortress being rebuilt into a truly monstrous barrier to separate North from South would deter him from any militant action against Jon. "Push the narrative that Bran could see his home again, even for a short period of time." On second thoughts however, he said. "Ignore that. The letter should be simply about Moat Cailin. If he knows about the Targaryen then he will have his guard up, ask him to inspect the castle and to lay down battle plans, ask him to allow Bran a visit home, and then when he is here I can explain it all."

Luwin looked uncertainly at Ned. "Are you sure it is wise to lie to him?"

"It isn't lying." Ned explained, but he wasn't sure if he was telling Luwin or himself. "This is a valid reason for him to come to the North, one that needs doing in truth. We can cross the Targaryen bridge when they arrive." Luwin nodded, though his eyes still showed huge uncertainty. He wrote out the letter however and showed it to Ned to look over, and Ned nodded, stamping it with his seal. "Get this sent out immediately." Ned commanded, but as soon as he finished speaking the guard outside rapped on the door.

"A Brother of the Night's Watch here to see you, Lord Stark." He said. "Claims he knows your sons."

That confused Ned. "Send him in." He ordered, and the door opened to reveal a slightly large man with mop hair and a thin bears.

"Lord Stark." The man bowed awkwardly. "You won't know me, but…"

"Samwell Tarly." Ned named him. "I'm glad to meet you."

Sam looked extremely confused. "You… you do know me?"

"Only by reputation." Ned said, gesturing to a spare seat for the young man to take. "I'm told you're more clever than anybody my son has met."

The disowned Tarly blushed. "I didn't know for sure if anybody actually remembered… I mean I had hoped of course, but to hear that is nice." He rambled, before his brow furrowed. "Who does remember, if you don't mind my asking?"

Ned chuckled lightly. "Torrhen and his wife, Mira. You, clearly. Olenna Tyrell was a surprise, as was Daenerys Targaryen. And Mance Rayder remembers too."

Sam's mouth gaped in an 'O' shape. "That's why it was so easy to convince the Wildlings to move south." He surmised. "And, excuse me, but Her Grace… I mean… Daenerys Targaryen?"

Ned nodded. "Torrhen and Mira are with her as we speak."

Sam smiled fondly. "I am glad to hear that." His smile dropped quickly, however. "I know how this may look, but I haven't been sent here by Lord Commander Thorne."

Ned hitched his breath. "You're not a deserter though?" He asked slowly and hopefully.

"No!" Sam protested quickly. "No, no I swear that I am not. It's a bit of a long tale…"

"We have time." Ned said calmly.

Sam gulped and nodded. "I was with the ranging party of Lord Commander Mormont you see when we were attacked at the Fist of the First Men. Of course this had already happened for me, so I knew what to do and where to go. We got back to Craster's Keep and the place was abandoned you see, but the mutiny." He paused to choke back a sob. "The Lord Commander was still killed, and I suppose the mutineers are still out there somewhere. I just ran back to the Wall to find out what happened in the War and I met Jaime Lannister. He took me into his little group as we saw the entire hierarchy of Castle Black shift into one that detested Wildlings above all else, and with that came a hatred of you. Ser Jaime, Victarion Greyjoy and I all knew that was wrong, and because Ser Jaime voiced his opinion openly at meetings, our group got separated. Greyjoy is now at Eastwatch, and with Maester Aemon passing I've been sent to Oldtown to gain my chain, although in reality it's to separate us all.

Luwin looked downcast. "I am sorry to hear that about Aemon, he was a fine scholar."

"And a fine man as well." Ned added, knowing his histories. "So why are you here at Winterfell, Sam?"

Sam gulped. "Well, I had hoped… you see I've spent my time at the Citadel, even if it wasn't here. I made my chain long ago and I still have all my memories of it. I served the Queen for her entire reign and King Aemon afterwards until I died there… I don't really _need_ to go to Oldtown, so I thought I could… help out here?" His voice went high at the question. Ned looked at Luwin, and Sam seemed to realise there was another person in the room. "I mean… urm…"

"Sam, he knows." Ned explained to calm the boy down. He turned to Luwin and asked. "Is there anything that can be done? We don't want to reveal the branching realities to the Maesters after all."

Luwin pondered for a moment. "They are aware of the coming threats in Oldtown. I shall send a raven explaining that the Castle Black Maester should not be the other end of the realm and put in a request to teach Samwell all I know to start him off on his chain, to be completed after a potential victory."

Sam brightened up at hearing that. "Thank you!"

"You may have had all the knowledge, but to me you are still a student." Luwin explained calmly. "We'll go through the regular learnings of the Maester's, tailored to what we will need to fight the Walkers of course to keep up appearances."

"I'll be a delightful student." Sam grinned. "Thank you, Maester. Lord Stark."

Ned nodded. "Follow Luwin to the Maester's tower, we will find you accommodation there." He explained. Both Sam and Luwin got to their feet and bowed, departing the room and leaving Ned alone. Scoffing in amusement, Ned filled up his ale mug and took a swig. One day he truly hoped that his life may be relatively normal again.

* * *

Ghost had appeared back in Meereen not long after the letter had been sent, but it was a few weeks into their stay in Meereen until the dragons were spotted. Torrhen and Mira were stood on the balcony of Daenerys' apex whilst Jon was training some men and Dany was dealing with the matters of ruling, when a familiar screech pierced the air. Torrhen grinned as Mira winced at the noise and hid behind the barrier.

"I've been waiting for this moment." He smirked at her, offering his hand to help her back to her feet. Mira stood up unhappily and flattened her dress.

"How can you stay so calm? What was that?" She asked him.

Torrhen peered into the horizon to spot the source of the noise, and sure enough coming from the north he saw a speck in the sky, which grew and grew as it visibly became a dragon. "There." He pointed.

"It's Rhaegal." Jon's voice came from behind them. Jon moved to stand beside Torrhen as they waited for the dragon to approach. "I can feel it, here." He pointed to his temple.

"Similar to how you connect to Ghost?" Torrhen asked, wondering if the dragon connection was anything like warging.

Jon shook his head. "Not quite, I can't warg into Rhaegal, and even then with Ghost I almost have to initiate it. With Rhaegal the connection is just there, I know his moods." He looked at the appearing dragon. "He's excited, he's ready."

"Ready for what?" Mira asked.

Jon just smirked. "You might want to stand back." He told them. Torrhen grabbed Mira's hand again and pulled her back into the doorway leading back into the pyramid, and they watched on as Rhaegal, who looked to be the size of one of the mammoths that Torrhen had seen North of the Wall, perched awkwardly on the stone and began to nuzzle Jon. "Hey boy." Jon whispered quietly. "Are you sure?" The green and bronze dragon just gestured to his back, and so Jon climbed up onto Rhaegal, settling himself down in between the back spikes.

Mira looked horrified. "Jon…" She began.

"It's ok." Torrhen interrupted his wife, a grin on his face. "Good luck!" He called to Jon.

Jon smirked as he gripped onto one of Rhaegal's spikes. He looked at the back of the dragon's skull determinedly and he spoke firmly in Valyrian. "**Fly**."

Rhaegal stood upright and flapped his wings, sending a huge gust of wind in the direction of Torrhen and Mira. Torrhen moved to protect his wife from it and could barely see as Rhaegal launched himself into the air with Jon on his back. Once the dragon made wind died down Torrhen rushed to the edge of the barrier to stare out at the retreating dragon, who was roaring loudly and veering across the city. "Amazing." The Stark whispered, truly in awe at the sight of Jon riding a dragon.

* * *

**Jon is a dragon rider! With Rhaegal and Viserion not having been locked up this time around they're a similar size to Drogon, and so as we are currently in Series 5 it makes sense for the dragons to start accepting riders. The scene with him before was a fun one too, with the discussions between Mira, Torrhen, Dany and Jon. As I explained in the story, Dany ruled for so long now all she wants is the chance of a quitter life with Jon. If that means bending to a Baratheon, then at least it isn't Robert.**

**Ned's also being a bit sneaky. With everything that's happened in the story so far not telling Stannis about the real reason he's wanted in the North seems tame, but no doubt he just wants life to be simple again as it was before this story. That won't happen until long after the final war however, and the arrival of Sam certainly won't help.**

**With a lack of Jon, Sam had to stand up for himself, but I feel he was always going to align himself with someone like Jaime when the Lannister made it quite obvious that he opposed Thorne. His experience at command makes Jaime a natural leader up at the Wall, and that plot thread is only just beginning to unravel...**

**Finally in King's Landing I wanted another cute little scene between Shireen and Bran. They're growing up a bit but they're still fairly young, so having Bran react like that to the kiss was funny to me. I'm imagining his future sigil as more like the Stark one in the books with the running direwolf, instead of just the head as in the show.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know what you think if you have any reactions or thoughts, they really do encourage me to write. Next time: We check in with Theon up in the North, while I reveal the real reason why it took Torrhen and Mira almost a year to get to Meereen…**

**Reviews:**

**Black Magic99: No, Stannis doesn't know anything about it.**

**thecurler66: The Dany/Jon/Stannis problem will be the major part of chapter 54. I can't really say any more without giving away spoilers.**

**hunterofartemis126: Domeric is a fun one because of the relationship Torrhen had with House Bolton when he had died, leaving Dom alive has allowed Torrhen to move past his prior hatred of certain Houses this time around.**


	53. Death and Life

**It's very strange to me that we're only 13 chapters away from the end of Torrhen's story, and if I'm honest that's probably the reason I've skipped a few weeks of uploads here and there because I don't want it to end. We are coming towards that however, and no amount of stalling from my behalf will change that.**

**Part of this chapter is a direct reference to a statement about the Night King made by Bran in Black Wolf Rises. The quote being "He's a Stark, believe it or not. The brother of our founder." This isn't show canon, but the Night King being a Stark was a popular theory, if it isn't still.**

**I own nothing but any OC's. Any recognisable characters or places are the property of George R R Martin and HBO.**

* * *

Ned Stark held the message from King's Landing in his hands nervously. King Stannis had agreed to the visit to Moat Cailin and would try to be there two months from now. The news worried the Lord of Winterfell, as he knew that what would happen at Moat Cailin could either solidify the armies of the living or tear them apart so close to the time that they will be needed. He knew he had been the one to ask for this though, and so Ned placed the letter down and began to think on who would stay in Winterfell during all of this.

His first thought was Sansa, and so he pushed himself out of his chair and made his way out into the courtyard, ready to cross it towards Septa Mordane's lessons, where his eldest red-headed daughter would be helping the younger redhead. On the way he noticed both Robin Arryn and Rickon sparring in the middle of the courtyard, grinning as he saw the wooden swords smashing against one another. He also noticed Robb in the corner of the courtyard, helping little Beron into his first set of padding. Ned grinned at the sight and almost went over towards them, but he shook his head and continued on to interrupt the Septa's lesson.

It was dancing today, and Ned stayed in the doorway for a moment as he watched Sansa whisk Sara around the dancefloor gracefully, teaching her where her feet should go for the basic dances. Ned smiled fondly, although he wished for his second youngest daughter to stop growing for a few years. She was the first one to see him, and Ned crouched down to catch the 6-year-old as she leapt into his arms.

"Sara Stark!" Septa Mordane cried out from behind the harp. "That is not a way for a Lady to behave."

Sansa rolled her eyes as Ned stood up with Sara in his arms. "Oh hush, Septa. Father rarely comes down to see our lessons, we can take a break." She scolded the old woman. "Hello, Father."

"Did you see me?" Sara asked brightly, her blue eyes shining up at him.

"I did." Ned nodded. "You looked very good." Sara grinned, and Ned noticed a tooth missing. He placed a finger to her mouth and said. "And I see your grown-up teeth are starting to come in."

Sara nodded. "Mother says I'm growing too fast." She told him

Ned chuckled. "Your Mother is right." He placed her back on the stone floor. "Run back to your lessons now, little one. I must speak with your sister."

Sara looked slightly disappointed, but she nodded and gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek before running off into the room. Sansa watched after her happily. "I can't believe how like Arya she is in some ways." She told him.

"Yet in more ways, she's like you." Ned added, before his face became more serious. "I need to speak to you about something."

Sansa looked up at him questioningly. "Of course, what is it Father?"

"The King has agreed to travel to Moat Cailin with Bran." Ned explained. "I must go of course, and I think the young ones should meet their brother. I would like you and Domeric to stay and take charge of Winterfell's affairs while I am away." He expected a number of different reactions from Sansa at this request, but if the Lord of Winterfell was totally honest, he had never expected nervousness. Sansa wrung her hands together and bit her lip awkwardly. "What is it?"

"It's…" Sansa began, before sighing. "I don't think we can, Father. Dom received a raven from the Dreadfort yesterday, Lord Bolton wishes for us to move their permanently."

That threw Ned slightly, but as his mind worked out what her words meant, he realised that stood before him wasn't his little girl anymore. Stood before him was his 18-year-old daughter, with a husband of her own. He smiled down at her and brought her into a hug, kissing the top of her head. "While I wish you could stay at Winterfell forever, you are ready for this Sansa."

Sansa nodded. "I am." She told him, and those two words told Ned more about the growth of his eldest girl than most other things could. He remembered the stage where she was terrified of the Dreadfort. The emotion must have been clear on his face because Sansa looked up at him. "Don't be sad, Father."

Ned smiled at her sadly. "I'm just realising how grown up you have become." He reassured her. "It doesn't seem that long ago that I saw you and Torrhen wrapped up in the same blanket together having just been born. Now you are off to become the Lady of the Dreadfort, Torrhen is thousands of miles away trying to reforge an alliance that has been broken for over 20 years. I will likely always miss the children you were, but I cannot help but be overwhelmed with pride at the adults you have become."

Sansa looked like she was tearing up and she crashed into him with a tight hug, which Ned happily returned. "We will always be your little twins." She whispered. "Only from afar, and not causing trouble underneath your feet."

Ned chuckled as he looked over at Sara, who was doing her own clumsy interpretation of how to dance to whatever Septa Mordane was playing on the harp. "I think I have enough troublemakers in the castle as it is anyway." He commented, pulling away once more. "When do you need to leave?"

"Within the week." Sansa surmised. "I think Domeric is stalling so we can spend longer here, but if we stall for too long we will never want to go."

Ned agreed with her logic. "I'll prepare a strong guard for you." He told her.

"10 men at most." Sansa said warningly. "I will be fine, Father. I can handle Lord Bolton."

"Just be careful." Ned said quietly. "He may be getting what he wants, but ambitious men always have another plan."

* * *

Watching the Unsullied board the Meereenese ships was a masterpiece in organisation. It had been decided that the Frostfang would also take both Dany and Jon back, so it was to be the last ship to be boarded. Dany was currently giving last minute instructions to Varys, who was travelling on a different ship.

"I can't believe I'm going home." Jory Cassel sighed peacefully. "I've enjoyed my adventures here, but nothing beats home."

Torrhen grinned. "Well I know there will be a lot of people eager to see you once more." He explained before looking at Jon. "Both of you."

Jon nodded. "I just hope Stannis is amenable." He said cautiously. "I don't want to fight."

"We won't." Torrhen said optimistically. "I am sure of it."

At that moment Dany walked over towards the gathered Northmen. "The Council of Dragon's Bay is now completely in control." She said with a grin. "It's time."

"Are we sure that they have a handle on it?" Torrhen asked with a raised eyebrow. "I still have nightmares about the Sons of the Harpy." He shuddered.

Dany shook her head. "Daario is under strict instructions, as are the rest of them." She grinned up at the dragons flying overhead. "Slavery will never return."

Torrhen clapped his hands together. "Good!" He exclaimed. "Now, let's get ourselves out of this unbearable heat and over to Westeros." He led them all onto wooden rowboats that sailed them out into the bay towards the Frostfang, and once they were on the Stark flagship the Lord of the Causeway showed them all to their respective cabins, before he made his way to his own one where Mira was already trying to settle Asher down.

"Are we ready?" She asked him once she had kept Asher quiet with a book, turning to Torrhen as he took off his fine clothing and went to put on his signature black Stark armour.

"Almost." Torrhen answered. He allowed Mira to tighten the straps as he stared past the table in his chambers and over to the locked chest. Once his wife had finished, he kissed her quickly before making his way back out to the deck, where the captain was barking out some final orders. "Captain, are we ready?"

"Aye My Lord!" He barked. "OARS AT THE READY!" He screamed to the crew. "BRING THAT SAIL DOWN!"

Torrhen stood up by the wheel staring down at the host of activity going on, and he felt himself smile as the ship lurched forwards away from Meereen. He turned back at the Great Pyramid, silently praying that he would never have to come back to this part of the world in his lifetime.

* * *

King's Landing was abuzz with activity. As the servants were preparing the food, drink, clothing and everything else that the small party that were travelling North would need, the King was ensuring that he had a fully functioning council in his absence. Bran knew that the majority of the council were staying, and that only the King and Ser Barristan would travel out of the 7. He was a bit saddened that Shireen wasn't coming too, but Bran was still excited about going home.

He and Summer arrived in the Throne Room to see Stannis talking with Grand Maester Yandel quietly. He stood awkwardly away from them for a few minutes before the adults stopped their conversation and Stannis walked over to the Stark.

"Your Grace." Bran bowed.

"Come, Brandon." Stannis called, passing Bran without stopping. "We must pay my brother a visit."

That excited Bran. The Lady Margaery had been in King's Landing for a while now, and the celebration when she announced her pregnancy was the largest that Bran had known. The evening before he had been told by Shireen that the birth had begun, so Bran could only assume that this meant that Storm's End had a new heir. "Is the baby here?" He asked Stannis.

The King nodded curtly. "A healthy boy, the Maester told me."

Bran could see the faintest hint of a smile on Stannis' lips. "That's wonderful news."

"It is." Stannis commented. "I must see the baby first though, I don't want to go through the same thing twice…" He trailed off. "Forget I said that, Brandon."

Bran had no idea what he was talking about, but he nodded anyway and followed the King up to the Lady Margaery's chambers. Two Tyrell guards were on the door and they immediately knocked and announced Stannis when they saw him approach. The door swung open and Renly appeared. His eyes were red as if he had been crying, but he had a wide grin on his face. "Brother!" He exclaimed.

"I came as soon as I heard." Stannis explained.

Renly nodded, and then he saw Bran and Summer. "Ah… could you tell the wolf to stay here…" HE trailed off.

Bran nodded. "Of course, Lord Renly." He answered, turning to Summer. "Summer, go to my rooms." He told the Direwolf. Summer just blinked and turned, walking away.

"So obedient." Renly chuckled. "Anyway, come on in you two. Shireen is already here."

So was Olenna Tyrell, Bran noticed as he walked into the room. He took his place over by Shireen who was beaming as well. "He's so cute." Shireen whispered.

Bran looked over at Margaery sat in the bed. Her hair was askew, and she was red and sweaty, something that Bran knew for a fact she would hate to be seen as. In her arms however was a tiny bundle. The room was silent as Stannis moved over to the bedside, and he took one look at the baby before the impossible happened. The King smiled.

"A healthy Baratheon." He declared.

"Well of course he is." Olenna rolled her eyes. "My daughter is no Cersei Lannister."

"Grandmother." Margaery warned, although she sounded tired.

Shireen was bouncing on her toes. "Have you thought of a name?" She asked.

Renly went to sit beside his wife. "Robert." He said quickly. "I can think of no finer name for the future Lord of Storm's End."

Stannis stood very still for a moment before he nodded his approval. "I like it." He said fondly. "Congratulations, the pair of you."

"Once you are back from the North, we want to go back to Storm's End." Renly explained. "The Lords should meet the new heir."

"Of course." Stannis agreed. "But for now I will need you to aid Lord Davos with the running of the Realm." Renly just nodded, before his attention returned to the baby. Stannis walked over to the youngsters. "I need you both to go to the ravenry. The birth of Robert Baratheon, heir to Storm's End must be sent to the entire realm."

Bran nodded formally, whilst Shireen smiled brightly. "Of course Father. Come on, Bran." She grabbed his hand and jolted him away, giggling as they ran down the corridors together.

* * *

Wintertown was slowly filling up as the snows began to become more frequent in the North, and with a long Winter expected, Robb had had the idea of expanding the town. He walked through the slushie streets with Grey Wind looking around as the occupants went about their daily business, hearing the chatter of the smallfolk mixed with the hammers of the builders.

His reasons for visiting Wintertown had changed over the years. Gone were the days of frequenting the alehouses with Theon and gone were the days of standing awkwardly in the brothels waiting for the Ironborn to finish up with whoever he had paid for the night before, usually Ros. Now the heir to Winterfell was walking to a fancy little house by Northern standards in order to have one last night of revelry before he was placed in charge of Winterfell again. His Father had told him that when the King arrived in the North it would be his job to be the Stark in Winterfell, and if he was being honest Robb was looking forward to it. He loved his family, but he knew that one day they wouldn't be here, and the chance to see what Winterfell would look like with just him, Wylla and his children was an intriguing one. His thoughts on the future came to an abrupt end when he noticed his destination in the distance, where a banner of a golden circle on a field of black flew from the small wooden walls. He grinned when he saw it, remembering the wedding that had led to the banner.

Theon had grown fond of Jeyne Poole, who with her childish infatuation had insisted on being one of his carers as the Ironborn recovered from having his arm removed. Things had gone from there, and a couple of months ago Theon had wed Jeyne in front of the Heart Tree, taking her sigil in his colours and changing his name to 'Greypoole'. Ned had happily given the pair some land in Wintertown and an allowance to let them live comfortably, but Theon was still constantly training hard to get used to his one arm.

As Robb entered the small courtyard he noticed Theon whacking a dummy with both his sword and what looked like a metal arm. He grinned at the sight and called out. "I see Mikken finally finished it."

Theon turned, panting, and smirked at his friend. "Aye, it fits like a charm." He held out the metal limb and allowed Robb to come up to him and feel it. "Strong too, Ser Rodrik reckons I can use it like a shield."

Robb could see the benefits of that. "When you feel up to it we'll spar again." He said, stroking the smooth metal surface. He looked around the house. "Jeyne not here?"

Theon shook his head. "Sansa told her that she was soon to leave for the Dreadfort so she's up at the castle doing whatever it is those two get up to."

Robb snorted. "Good. It gives you some free time then." Theon raised an eyebrow to query that, and Robb held up a couple of money pouches. "The children are with Wylla, everyone is either fussing over Sansa or preparing for the King's visit… let's go to the alehouse for the first time in forever."

Theon laughed aloud. "Aye, it's been a long time since I've had a good drink." He admitted. He went over to place his training sword away and grabbed a cloak, wrapping it around himself. "I bet I can still outdrink you…"

"As if." Robb rolled his eyes, putting his arm around Theon and dragging him away from the house and into the town. They went to their favourite alehouse and were given a private room, and soon enough they were drinking their drinks and laughing together like old times.

* * *

Torrhen waited until the _Frostfang_ had made it past the Isle of Cedars before he invited Daenerys and Jon into his personal quarters. Mira had taken Asher to a different part of the boat so that Torrhen had the space to talk to them properly. He sat them down at his dinner table with the pair of them looking at him expectantly.

"What is it?" Daenerys asked.

Torrhen took a deep breath before he walked over to the windows that looked out on the water behind the ship. "Stannis Baratheon was crowned over a year ago as you know, and I'm sure somewhere you've been wondering why it took us so long to arrive in Meereen." He didn't wait for their responses, but the glare in the mirror showed that their reflection was agreeing. "The truth is, we first travelled to Braavos and stayed there for a week to replenish our stores and make sure that the _Frostfang_ was as defensively capable as we possibly could, before heading down to Volantis to restock once more before we left."

"That still wouldn't take that long." Dany commented.

"Aye, it didn't." Torrhen admitted, still staring away from them. We sailed from Volantis 5 months after the coronation, but we made one last stop, in Valyria."

Dany sucked in a breath as her eyes widened. "You went back?" She whispered.

"Back?" Jon exclaimed, horrified. "You've been there before?"

"Not in this lifetime." Torrhen explained. "But yes, I went back." He pulled a key from around his neck and held it in his fingers for a moment. "I thought that because I've been there before I could simply be in and out of the ruins in a day… I was wrong." He placed the key down on the table and sighed before he went to pull his shirt over his head.

"What are you doing?" Jon asked.

Torrhen didn't say anything as his shirt was removed, and Jon gasped. Whilst his front was relatively unscarred, as soon as Torrhen turned around the charred skin and burning was evident. "I was unlucky, I got caught in the raging fires that still burn to this day. We quickly left for Elyria where I was kept bedridden for weeks upon weeks."

"I've not seen these before…" Jon noted. "We've sparred in the heat regularly…"

"I keep them covered unless I'm with Mira." Torrhen shrugged. They do not hurt me, whatever the physicians of Elyria did ensured that, but it's a reminder of why Valyria is so dangerous."

"Why did you go there?" Jon looked angry as Torrhen pulled his shirt back on. "Why risk your life like that?"

Torrhen smirked. "That is an excellent question." He moved over and grabbed Winter's Bite, placing the sheathed sword on the table. "This sword is from the other reality. It was forged from half of the blade of Brightroar, the Lannister sword. Riversteel is the other half, yet the Gods blessed me and granted me the sword, promising me that the original steel still exists." He then picked the key back up and moved over to his chest, unlocking the wooden object and opening it with a loud creaking. He pulled out another sword, one sheathed in a black casing with red and gold vines weaving around it. The hilt made it obvious however, as the wavy gold cross guard with the ruby in the middle along with the golden flame pommel gave it away.

"Dark Sister…" Dany gasped.

Torrhen walked back to the table and handed it to Daenerys. "A gift, from my Father to you, Dany." He explained.

"How did Father have it?" Jon asked.

Torrhen smirked. "It was yours." He explained. "Rhaegar had it and took it to the Tower, to prove your legitimacy in case of his death I suppose, but with Robert on the Throne Father knew it was too dangerous, so Howland Reed hid the blade in the Neck and you became Jon Snow, bastard son of Ned Stark."

"It's mine?" Jon was trying to process the information.

Torrhen nodded. "Originally, but I think it's better suited to Dany. Don't worry, I have a gift for you too." He moved back to the chest and this time pulled out a great sword that was only slightly smaller than Ice. He placed that on the table too, and Jon stared down at the golden lion on the pommel that was poking out of a sheath that had been made quickly in Elyria whilst Torrhen had been bedridden. "Brightroar." He answered the unspoken question. "Gerion Lannister found it but died before he could retrieve it. I'm taking this back for Jaime Lannister. For you however…" He trailed off, before he pulled out one final blade. "Your ancestral sword."

The ruby in the pommel was still as shiny as ever, and the dragon headed cross guard still gave Torrhen chills. He handed Blackfyre, the sword of King's, over to Jon who took it nervously, pulling the blade out of the second hastily made sheath. The ripples of Valyrian Steel shone in the candlelight, and Torrhen felt deju vu once more as he watched Jon hold Blackfyre in his hands. "Is this real?" Jon asked cautiously.

Torrhen grinned. "Aye, in your hands you hold the blade of Aegon the Conqueror, of Jaehaerys the Conciliator, of Daeron the Young. For years it's been lost in the hands of the Blackfyre's, but because a portion of the Golden Company died in Valyria and allowed me to find it, the sword is now yours, Aegon." He used Jon's Targaryen name for effect.

Jon gulped nervously as he placed the unsheathed weapon down on the table before turning to Torrhen. They hugged fiercely, and Jon whispered. "Thank you." Torrhen said nothing, but both the thought of Jon wielding Blackfyre while riding on a dragon as well as two more Valyrian Steel swords added to the side of the living gave him hope that they would win this.

* * *

The cold winds were blowing ferociously as a dozen mounted figures slowly entered the port town of Hardhome. Visibility was low as the snows whipped around fiercely, but the figures stood firm in the face of the howling winds. As they arrived at the hastily erected wooden gates, it was already clear that something wasn't right. Hardhome should have been the location of thousands of living souls to add to his army, and yet the only footprints pressed into the snow were that of horses and himself.

Unemotionally, he placed his hand upon the wooden gates and let the magic flow through his fingers as wood became ice. When a large amount of the gate was frozen he silently commanded one of his brethren to break through the barrier, and soon enough he was inside the empty town.

Knowing something was wrong, he slowly made his way out of Hardhome and walked towards the nearest Weirwood Tree. He knew the old man would be watching as soon as he touched the sacred white bark, but he had been hiding for 8,000 years, that was long enough.

He pressed his palm to the bark and his mind left his body. He saw his creation, as the Children of the Forest enticed him to consent to being experimented on in order to overthrow his brother. He saw the fear in his own eyes as he realised what that experimenting was going to be, and he unemotionally watched on as his human form mutated and adapted into the icy figure he has known for millennia. He saw both the war against the First Men, and then the war against the living, watching as he faced his brother again twenty years after his creation before being forced to retreat and hide for 8,000 years.

The visions then changed as he saw Hardhome, but this time it was populated with thousands upon thousands, all but a few ended up joining his army, and he saw himself facing a man with his brothers features sail away. The scene turned, and the fields surrounding the Weirwood Tree that he had faced off against Brandon in was now a gigantic castle, the Weirwood Tree now part of a vast wooded area, where he saw himself fighting against a different man, but he again had the same features as his brother. Fires burned around the tree and his brethren were destroying the living around a different boy in a wheelchair. He watched on as he stabbed the Stark through the stomach, dropping him to the ground barely alive. When it all seemed too easy however, he saw himself shatter into a million little shards of Ice as the Stark thrust a blade into him.

His vision went white, and he saw the Old Man in his little tree throne. "You were unwise to seek this sight, Jonos." The Three Eyed Raven warned. "Only death shall come of this." His ability to speak had been taken from him millennia ago, but the Night King cocked his head to show how uncaring he was. He had to know the truth, he had to know what had changed. He used all of his will to break through the barriers that the Three Eyed Raven had put up, and he saw the same Godswood inside the castle, and his killer as a child, asking why he had been brought back.

That gave him the clarification he needed. The living were prepared for him and had obviously made moves to counter him. For the first time in centuries he felt true anger, and he pushed himself away from the Weirwood Tree, ceasing the visions. His hand had left a flaming print on the Weirwood, right beside the open eyed and staring face that had been carved. If the living had made plans, then so would he.

A couple of hours later, he and his brethren were outside a long-abandoned cave. He alone walked inside, only taking three steps on the stone before he stopped and knelt down, letting the magic seep into the stone. Moments later, he knew that his plan had worked, as he heard the scurrying of multiple arachnids rushing towards him.

* * *

**So in Rises I mentioned that the Night King in this series was a Stark. It stands to reason that Bloodraven would know who he is really, and so I introduced a little bit of backstory to him here. The key part of his scene however is realising that his initial plan was doomed to failure, and that he saw Torrhen's face clearly…**

**Meanwhile in the scenes with the living… Renly has a son! His conversation with Stannis a few chapters ago led him to at least try, and whilst I can assure you he is still 100% gay, he managed to give Margaery a son. It also stands to reason that his son is named Robert given how much his death affected the Lord of Storm's End.**

**The Valyrian Steel swords are also back. Of course Torrhen would go and retrieve them again, especially after his meeting with the Green Man early on in the story. This time however Brightroar will stay whole.**

**The only other relatively important part of the chapter was what's happened to Theon. He's truly disowned his family by giving himself a new name. For the longest time this chapter was named 'Greypoole', but after writing the chapter it didn't make much sense.**

**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Please leave a review of some sort letting me know some of your thoughts, it really does help and encourage me.**

**Next time: Stannis meets Daenerys and Jon, while a new enemy makes their move…**

**Reviews:**

**antonio cue gervas (Chapter 24): If you end up seeing this and didn't stop after Chapter 24, I answered your review in a PM. But long story short for the others, the geography in your review isn't quite accurate so the criticisms based on that in my eyes aren't really valid.**

**kano547 (Chapter 35): I'd argue it's simply that the Stark's are fighting against superior fighters in those instances.**

**George Cristian810: I'm sorry you feel like that, but Jon is evidently an extremely important character in both books and show.**

**Guest (Seed of the Dragon): I did have a chapter of a similar premise before, but this one is a far more detailed version, and whereas in the old one I killed Daeron off quite quickly, in Seed he is one of 5 POV characters, with 7 chapters so far.**


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